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THE QUEST OF THE 
SILVER SWAN 


A Land and Sea Tale for Boys 


BY 

W. BERT FOSTER 

Author of " In Alaskan Waters,” “ With Washington at 
Valley Forge,” “The Lost Galleon,” “The Treasure 
of Southlake Farm,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW YORK 

CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Two Copies Rocelvod 

JUL 9 IsWf 


IS ,/ *^0 7 
g Cl4ss <X aXc„ No. ? 

/ y s o o(,\ 

{ COPY u. ^ 




/A 


GOOD BOOKS FOR BOYS 


The Young Builders of Swiftdale. By Allen Chapman. 
Cloth. Price, 6o cents. 

Andy the Acrobat. By Peter T. Harkness. Cloth. 

Illustrated. Price, 6o cents. 

Canoe Boys and Camp Fires. By William Murray 

Graydon. Cloth. Price, $i.oo. 

From Office Boy to Reporter. By Howard R. Garis. 

Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $i.oo. 

With Axe and Flintlock. By George Waldo Browne. 

Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $i.oo. 

The Crimson Banner. By William D. Moffat. Cloth. 
Price, $1.00. 

The Quest of the Silver Swan. By W. Bert Foster. 
Cloth. Price, 75 cents. 

Copyright, by Frank A. Munsey Co., 1894 and 1895, as a serial. 


Copyright, 1907, by Chatterton-Peck Company. 


The Quest of the Silver Swan. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER page 

I. The Raft at Sea 9 

11 . Introducing Brandon Tarr and Uncle Arad 21 

III. An Account of the Wreck of The Silver 

Swan 34 

IV. Brandon Comes to a Decision .... 40 

V. Uncle Arad Has Recourse to Legal Force 45 

yi. Relating a Meeting Between Uncle Arad 

AND the Sailor 51 

VII. Introducing “Square” Holt and His Opin- 
ions 59 

VIII. Something About Leaving the Farm . . 66 

IX. Another Letter From New York ... 72 

X. Brandon’s Arrival at the Metropolis ' . .79 

XI. The Firm of Adoniram Pepper & Co. . . 85 

XII. In Which Brandon Ventures into Rather 

Disreputable Society ....... 90 

XIH. The Old Sailor with the Wooden Leg . . 98 

XIV. The Old Sailor’s Excitement .... 103 

XV. ^ Caleb Receives a Startling Communica- 
tion no 

XVI. Telling How Brandon Bearded the Lion 

IN His Lair 116 

XVII. How THE Omnipresent Weeks Proves his 

Right to the Term 123 

‘XVIH. Brandon Listens to a Short Family His- 
tory 130 

XIX. Telling a Great Deal About Derelicts in 

General 137 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XX. 

XXL 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 

XXXIII. 

XXXIV. 

XXXV. 

XXXVI. 

XXXVII. 

XXXVIII. 

XXXIX. 

XL. 


PAGE 


The Contents of Several Interesting 

Documents i44 

In Which Mr. Pepper Makes a Proposition 

TO Caleb and Don 151 

Into Bad Company 156 

Mr. Alfred Weeks at a Certain Confer- 
ence 163 

How A Nefarious Compact was Formed . 171 

Uncle Arad Makes an Announcement . 176 

Caleb Wetherbee Obstructs the Course of 

THE Law 183 

Wherein Brandon Tarr Conceals Him- 
self 188 

The Departure of the Whaleback, Num- 
ber Three 197 

The Stowaway Aboard the Success . . 208 

Showing What Miss Milly Does for 

Brandon 217 

Wherein Number Three Approaches the 
Supposed Vicinity of the Silver Swan 224 
Relating How the Silver Swan was 
Heard From 229 


In Which Comrades in Courage Launch 


Themselves Upon the Deep .... 234 
The Incidents of a Night of Peril . . 240 

Showing how Caleb Appeared on the 

Scene Just Too Late 250 

The Castaways on the Brig Success . . 257 

Left in Doubt 264 

How THE Enemy Appeared 270 

Showing How Mr. Weeks Made his Last 
Move 278 


In Which the Enemy is Defeated and 
THE Quest of the Silver Swan is Ended 286 


THE QUEST OF 
THE SILVER SWAN 

CHAPTER I 

THE RAFT AT SEA 

The sun, whose upper edge had just appeared 
above the horizon, cast its first red beams aslant a 
deserted wilderness of heaving billows. 

Here and there a flying fish, spurning its usual 
element, cut the air like a swift ray of light, falling 
back into the sea again after its short flight with 
a splash that sent myriad drops flashing in the sun- 
light. 

There were not a few triangular objects, dark in 
color, and looking like tiny sails, darting along the 
surface of the sea, first in this direction and then in 
that. There was a peculiar sinister motion to these 
fleshy sails, an appearance to make the beholder shud- 
der involuntarily; for these objects were the dorsal 
fins of sharks, and there is nothing more bloodthirsty 
and cruel than these “ tigers of the sea.’’ 

It was quite noticeable that these monsters had 
gathered about an object which, in comparison with 
the vast expanse of sea and sky, was but a speck. 

9 


10 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

It labored heavily upon the surface of the sea, and 
seemed to possess a great attraction for the sharks. 

It was really a heavily built raft, more than twenty 
feet in length, and with a short, stumpy mast lashed 
upright amidships. Near each end was a long sea 
chest, both placed across the raft, and there were 
also a broken water butt and several empty cracker 
boxes lashed firmly (as were the chests) to the 
strongly built platform. 

At one end of this ungainly craft, behind one of 
the chests, lay two men; at the further side of the 
opposite chest reclined another. 

One might have thought the sea chests to be fortifi- 
cations, for all three men were heavily armed, and 
each was extremely careful not to expose his person 
to the party behind the opposite chest. 

Between the two boxes lay the figure of a fourth 
man; but he was flat upon his face with his arms 
spread out in a most unnatural attitude. He was evi- 
dently dead. 

Of the two men who were at the forward end of 
the raft (or what was the forward end for the time 
being, the ocean currents having carried the craft 
in various directions during the several past days), 
of these two, I say, one was a person of imposing, if 
not handsome, presence, with curling brown hair 
streaked with gray, finely chiseled features, and skin 
bronzed by wind and weather; but now the features 
were most painfully emaciated, and a blood stained 
bandage was wrapped about his brow. 

His companion was a hearty looking old sea dog, 
well past the half century mark, but who had evi- 


THE RAFT AT SEA 


II 


dently stood the privations they had undergone far 
better than the first named. 

He was burned even darker than the other, was 
of massive figure and leonine head, and possessed a 
hand like a ham. One leg was bent up beneath him, 
but the other was stretched out stiffly, and it took only 
a casual glance to see that the old seaman had a 
wooden leg. 

Every few moments the latter individual raised his 
head carefully and peered over the chest, thus keep- 
ing a sharp watch on the movements of the single 
occupant of the space behind the other fortification. 

This person was a broad shouldered, deep chested 
man, seemingly quite as powerful as the wooden 
legged sailor. Privation and hardship had not im- 
proved his appearance, either, for his raven black 
beard and hair were matted and unkempt, and his 
bronzed face had that peculiar, pinched expression 
with which starvation marks its victims ; and this 
look did not make his naturally villainous features less 
brutal. 

In truth, all three of these unfortunates were starv- 
ing to death; the fourth man, who lay so still upon 
the rough boards between the two chests, was the 
first victim of the hardships they had suffered for 
the last ten days. 

These four men had been members of the ship’s 
company of the good brig Silver Swan, bound to 
Boston from Cape Town and Rio Janeiro. After 
leaving the latter port three weeks before, several 
severe storms had arisen and the brig was beaten ter- 
rifically by the elements for days and days. 


12 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Finally, after having every stick wrenched from 
her and even the jury mast the crew had rigged, 
stripped bare, the brig, now being totally unmanage- 
able, was blown upon a narrow and barren reef sev- 
eral leagues to the south and west of Cuba. 

The crew, who had ere this most faithfully obeyed 
the captain and mate, Caleb Wetherbee, now believ- 
ing the vessel about to go to pieces, madly rushed to 
the boats, and lowering them into the heavy sea, lost 
their lives in their attempt to leave the brig. 

Captain Tarr and mate Wetherbee were able to 
save only two of the unfortunates — Paulo Montez, a 
Brazilian, and Jim Leroyd, the latter the least worthy 
of all the crew. 

These four had built the rude raft upon which they 
had now floated so long, and not daring to remain 
with the brig during another storm that seemed im- 
minent, they set sail in the lumbering craft and left 
the well built and still seaworthy brig hard and fast 
upon the reef. 

This storm, which had frightened them from the 
Swan, was only severe enough to strip their rude mast 
of its sail and rigging and drive them seemingly far 
out of the course of other vessels, for not a sail had 
they sighted since setting out on the raft. 

Slowly their provisions had disappeared, while the 
now calmed sea carried them hither and thither as it 
/ listed ; and at last the captain and mate had decided to 
put all hands upon still shorter allowance. 

At this, Leroyd, always an ugly and brutal fellow 
even aboard ship, had rebelled, and had tried to stir up 
his companion, Paulo, to mutiny against the two offl- 


THE RAFT AT SEA 


13 


cers; but the Brazilian was already too far gone to 
join in any such scheme (in fact, he died the next 
forenoon), and Caleb Wetherbee had driven Leroyd 
to his present position behind the further chest, at 
the point of his pistol. 

Captain Tarr, who had received a heavy blow on 
the head from a falling block at the time of the brig’s 
wreck, was far less able to stand the hardship than 
either of his living companions, and, now that ten full 
days had expired since leaving the Silver Swan, he 
felt himself failing fast. 

Alone, he would have been unable to cope with 
Leroyd; but Caleb Wetherbee stood by him like a 
faithful dog and kept the villainous sailor in check. 
As Leroyd had demanded his share of the water and 
scanty store of provisions, the mate had, with care- 
ful exactness, given him his third and then made 
him retire behind his chest again; for he could not 
trust the fellow an instant. 

“ The scoundrel would put two inches o’ steel be- 
tween both our ribs for the sake o’ gettin’ the whole 
o’ this grub,” declared Caleb, keeping a firm grip upon 
his pistol. 

He’d only shorten my time a little, Cale,” gasped 
Captain Tarr, a paroxysm of pain weakening him 
terribly for the moment. “ I can’t stand many such 
times as that” he added, when the agony had passed. 

“ Brace up, cap’n,” said the mate cheerfully. 

You’ll pull through yet.” 

‘‘ Don’t deceive yourself, or try to deceive me, 
Caleb,” responded Captain Tarr gloomily. “ I know 
my end is nigh, though I’m not an old man yet — 


14 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


younger than you, old trusty, by ten years. And 
my life’s been a failure, too,” he continued, more to 
himself than to his companion. 

“Tut! tut! don’t talk like that ’ere. Ye’ll have ter 
pull through for the sake o’ that boy o’ yourn, you 
know.” 

“ I shall never see him again,” declared the in- 
jured man, with confidence. “ And how can I die 
in peace when I know that I shall leave my son penni- 
less ? ” 

“ Penniless ! ” exclaimed Wetherbee. “ Didn’t you 
own the brig, an’ ain’t you been makin’ v’y’ges in her 
for the past ten year ? ” 

“ I did own the Silver Swan, and I have made pay- 
ing voyages with her,” replied the captain weakly ; 
“ but, shame on me to have to say it, all my earnings 
have been swallowed up by a speculation which turned 
out to be utterly worthless. A sailor, Caleb, should 
stick by the sea, and keep his money in shipping; 
I went into a mine in Nevada and lost every cent I had 
saved.” 

“ But there was the Swan,” said the dumfounded 
mate ; “ there’ll be the int’rest money on her — and a 
good bit it should be, too.” 

“Aye, should be,” muttered Captain Tarr bitterly; 
“ but the brig is on that reef and there’s not a cent of 
insurance on her.” 

“What! no insurance?” gasped Wetherbee. 

“ No. When I left port last time my policy had 
run out, and I hadn’t a cent to pay for having it re- 
newed. So, if the old brig’s bones whiten on that 
reef, poor Brandon will not get a cent.” 


THE RAFT AT SEA 


15 


they do/’ exclaimed the mate in wonder. 

‘‘ Yes, if they do,” responded Captain Tarr, rising 
on his elbow and speaking lower, so that there could 
be no possibility of the man at the other end of the 
raft hearing his words ; “ for it’s my firm conviction, 
Caleb, that we’d done better to stick by the old Swan. 
This last storm drove hard from the west’ard. Sup- 
pose she’d slipped ofiF again into deep water? She 
didn’t leak enough to keep her sweet, in spite of the 
terrific pounding she got from waves and rocks, and 
she might float for weeks — aye, for months — and 
you know she’d have plenty of company drifting up 
and down the Atlantic coast.” * 

“ But that ain’t probable, cap’n, though I’ll grant 
ye that we might have done better by stickin’ by her 
a while longer.” 

“ Probable or not, Caleb, I feel that it is true. You 
know, they say a dying man can see some things 
plainer than other folks.” 

Caleb was silenced by this, for he could not hon- 
estly aver that he did not believe his old commander 
to be near his end. 

“ And we had a valuable cargo, too, you know — 
very valuable,” murmured Captain Tarr. “T put 
every cent I received from the sale of the goods we 
took to Cape Town into this cargo, and would have 
cleared a handsome profit — enough to have kept 
both Brandon and me in good circumstances for a 
year. And then, there is something else.” 

“Well, what is it?” Caleb asked, after taking a 
squint over the top of their breastwork to make sure 
that Leroyd had not ventured out, 


i6 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

If Fd got home with the Silver Swan, Caleb, I 
should have been rich for life, and you, old trusty, 
should have had the brig just as she stood, for the 
cost of makin’ out the papers/’ 

“ What ? ” exclaimed Caleb. 

He looked at his commander for several moments, 
and then shook his head slowly. He believed that 
the privation they had suffered had at length affected 
even Captain Horace Tarr’s brain. 

“ I’m not crazy, Caleb,” said the captain faintly. 

I tell you I should have been immensely wealthy. 
Brandon should have never wanted for anything as 
long as he lived, nor should I ; and I had already de- 
cided to give the brig to you.” 

“ What — what d’ye mean if ye ain't crazy ? ” cried 
Caleb, in bewilderment. 

“ Do you remember the man who came aboard the 
brig at Cape Town, just before we sailed?” asked 
Captain Tarr, in a whisper, evidently saving his 
strength as much as possible for his story. “ He 
was a friend of my brother Anson.” 

“Anson!” interjected Caleb. “Why, I supposed 
he was dead.” 

“ He is now,” replied the captain ; “ but instead of 
dying several years ago, as we supposed, he had been 
living in the interior of Cape Colony, and just before 
he actually did die he gave a package (papers, this 
man supposed them to be) to an acquaintance, to be 
delivered to me. I happened to touch at Cape Town 
before the friend of my brother had tried to com- 
municate with me by mail, and he brought the pack- 
age aboard the brig himself. 


THE RAFT AT SEA 


17 


He did not know what he was carrying — he 
never would have dared do it had he known — for 
with a letter from Anson was a package, done up in 
oil silk, of — diamonds of the purest water ! ” 

“ Diamonds ! ” repeated Caleb. 

“ Yes, diamonds — thousands of dollars’ worth — 
enough to make one man, at least, fabulously rich ! ” 
The captain slowly rolled his head from side to side. 

After all these years the luck of the Tarrs had 
changed, Caleb. Fortune has ever played us false, 
and even now, just when wealth was in our grasp, 
it was snatched from us again. 

After wandering up and down the earth for forty 
years, Anson finally ^ struck it rich,’ and am I, who 
was to profit by his good fortune, and the son whom I 
love more than I do anything else on earth, to lose 
this treasure after all ? ” 

He fell back upon the raft, and the exertion set 
the wound in his head to bleeding again. A dark 
stream appeared beneath the bandage and trickled 
down his forehead, while he lay, gasping for breath, 
upon the bit of sailcloth which served him for a bed. 

“ What did you do with the diamonds ? ” the mate 
asked, when the dying man had again become calm. 

“I — I have written a letter to Brandon, telling 
him all about it,” gasped the captain. “ That is what 
I wrote the second day we were on the raft. I dared 
not take them with me from the brig, and they are 
hidden in the cabin. I know now that we made a 
grave mistake in leaving the Silver Swan at all, for 
she may hold together for months. 

“ Take — take the papers from my pocket, Cale,” 


i8 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

he added, feebly unbuttoning his coat, and keep 
them. If you are saved I charge you to give them 
to Brandon with your own hands, and I can trust you 
to assist him in every possible way to recover his 
fortune, should such a thing be possible.” 

The mate bent over the unfortunate owner of the 
Silver Swan, and with trembling hands removed sev- 
eral thick documents from his pocket and thrust them 
into the breast of his flannel shirt. 

As he did so and turned again, he saw the scowling 
visage of Jim Leroy d peering at them above his 
chest. Quick as a flash he seized his pistol and aimed 
it at the sailor; but Leroyd dodged out of view at 
once. Without doubt, however, he had seen the pa- 
pers passed from the captain to mate Wetherbee. 

“ Take good care of them, Cale,” whispered Cap- 
tain Tarr. And let nobody else see them. I be- 
lieve that Leroyd suspected something back there at 
Cape Town, for he came into the cabin on an errand 
just as that friend of poor Anson gave the package 
into my hands, and I caught him snooping about the 
companionway several times afterward. It was he 
I feared most when we left the brig, and therefore 
dared not take the diamonds with me.” 

“ ril shoot him yet,” muttered the old seaman 
fiercely, with his weather eye cocked over the top of 
the chest. ‘‘ I hated the sight o' that fellow when 
he first boarded the brig at New York. His face is 
enough to bring bad luck to any ship.” 

But the captain was not listening to him. He had 
floated away into a restless slumber, from which he 
only awoke once to whisper, “ Remember, Cale! ” and 


THE RAFT AT SEA 


19 


then passed into a dreamless sleep from which there 
could be no awakening in this world. 

Caleb Wetherbee closed the captain’s eyes tenderly, 
wrapped him in the bit of sailcloth which had served 
as his bed, and fastened his lifeless body so that no 
unexpected roll of the raft would precipitate it into 
the water. Then he took the scant share of food left 
of the captain’s hoard, and religiously divided it into 
two equal portions. 

Jim ! ” he said, when this was done, allowing him- 
self but a moment to gloat over the pitifully meager 
supply which he laid on the chest lid. 

“ Aye, aye, sir ! ” responded the sailor gruffly, cau- 
tiously raising his head from behind his fortification. 

Captain Tarr is dead, Jim, and I have divided his 
share o’ the grub. Put down your weapons and come 
forward to the chest and take your part. Remember, 
no slippery business or I’ll bore a hole in ye! Step 
out now.” 

Suddenly the sailor arose, his ungainly, dwarfish 
proportions being more manifest now that he was 
on his feet, and approached his officer, stepping over 
the body of Paulo without a glance at it. 

His fierce eyes lighted eagerly as he saw the little 
supply of food (he had already consumed all his own), 
and he seized it at once. While he did so he looked 
at the wooden legged sailor with a crafty smile. 

“Wot was it the old man give ye, Caleb?” he 
asked familiarly. 

The mate scowled fiercely at him, and did not reply. 

“ Oh, ye needn’t act so onery,” went on Leroyd. 

I knowed there was somethin’ — money I bet — 


20 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


that was given to the old man at the Cape. He’s 
acted like a new man ever since, and if there’s any- 
thing in it, I’m goin’ ter hev my share, jest like this 
share o’ the grub, now I tell ye ! ” 

“ You take that food and git back to your place ! ” 
roared Caleb, pointing the huge “ bull dog,” which 
had a bore like a rifle, at the fellow’s head. “ An’ let 
me tell you that I shall be on the watch, I shall, an’ 
it’ll be a long say afore you catch Caleb Wetherbee 
asleep. Ef I ain’t saved, you won’t be, let me tell you, 
for ef I feel myself a-goin’ to Davy Jones, you'll go 
along with me!” 

Leroyd sneaked back to his place again, and 
crouched behind the chest. In that position he could 
not see the movements of Caleb, who, after a few mo- 
ments’ thought, deposited the packet of papers where 
he believed no one would think of looking for them. 

“There!” he muttered grimly. “If I do foller 
Cap’n Tarr, I reckon these papers’ll never do that 
scoundrel any good, an’ he can throw this old hulk to 
the sharks and welcome. If the cap’n’s boy don’t 
profit by ’em, nobody shall.” 

Then he folded his arms, the pistol still in his 
grasp, and continued his task of watching for the res- 
cuing sail, which it seemed would never come. 


CHAPTER II 




INTRODUCING BRANDON TARR AND UNCLE ARAD 

Leading from the village of Rockland, Rhode 
Island, a wide, dusty country road, deeply rutted here 
and there, winds up to the summit of a long ridge, the 
highest land in that portion of the State, which past 
generations have named Chopmist. 

It is a drizzly, chilly spring day, the showers pat- 
tering down in true April style, the sun promising to 
show his face every few minutes, and then, when you 
are expecting his warming rays, down falls another 
shower and Sol hides his face in despair. 

Near the highest part of the ridge, on the easterly 
side of the road, stood an old, gambrel roofed, weather 
beaten house, its end facing the road and its front door 
at the side as though it, like its present owner, had 
turned sourly away from the world, refusing even 
to look out upon the highway which passed socially 
near it. 

The rain dripped steadily into the moss covered 
water butt at the corner of the house, and a bedrag- 
gled chicken, who seemed not to possess enough 
energy to get under better cover, sat humped up in a 
most dismal manner under the lilac bush at the other 
corner of the house. 

It was well nigh as dismal inside the house as out. 

21 


22 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


A miserable little fire of green wood sputtered and 
Lissed in an even more miserable stove, and the faded 
yellow cambric curtain at the little window, did its 
best (with the aid of the dirt, which was considerable) 
to keep the light from penetrating the panes. 

At one end of the kitchen was a square deal table 
littered with soiled dishes left from the morning 
meal ; the two or three chairs about the room were in 
a state of great dilapidation; and even the old clock 
on the mantel shelf ticked with a sort of rasping 
g-roan, as though every stroke put its rheumatic old 
wheels and springs in agony. 

Before the stove, in a sadly abused, wooden bot- 
tomed armchair, and with his back humped up a good 
deal like the chicken under the lilac bush outside, sat 
an old man with weazened, wrinkled face, eyes like 
a hawk’s, a beak-like nose, and a sparse settlement of 
gray hairs on his crown and chin. 

He leaned forward in his seat, and both claw-like 
hands clutching the arms of the chair, seemed to be 
all that kept him from falling upon the stove. 

At the window, just where the light fell best upon 
the book in his hand, sat a youth of sixteen years — a 
well made, robust boy, whose brown hair curled about 
his broad forehead, and whose face was not without 
marks of real beauty. 

Just now his brows were knit in a slight frown, 
and there was a flash of anger in his clear eyes. 

I dunno what’s cornin’ of ev’rything,” the old 
man was saying, in a querulous tone. “ Here ’tis the 
first o’ April, an’ ’tain’t been weather fit ter plow a 
furrer, or plant a seed, yit.” 


BRANDON TARR AND UNCLE ARAD 


23 ’ 


“ Well, I don’t see as it’s my fault, Uncle Arad,” 
responded the boy by the window. “ /* don’t make the 
weather.” 

“ I dunno whether ye do or not,” the old man de-^ 
dared, after staring across at him for an instant. 

I begin ter believe yer a regular Jonah — jest as 
yer Uncle Anson was, an’ yer pa, too.” 

The boy turned away and looked out of the win- 
dow at this mention of his parent, and a close ob- 
server might have seen his broad young shoulders 
tremble with sudden emotion as he strove to check 
the sobs which all but choked him. 

Whether the old man was a close enough observer 
to see this or not, he nevertheless kept on in the same 
strain. 

“ One thing there is erbout it,” he remarked ; ‘‘ An- 
son knew he was born ter ill luck, an’ he cleared out 
an’ never dragged nobody else down ter poverty 
with him. But your pa had ter marry — an’ see 
what come of it ! ” 

I don’t know as it affected you any,” rejoined the 
boy, bitterly. 

“ Yes, ’t’as, too ! Ain’t I got you on my hands,, 
a-eatin’ of your head off, when there ain’t a sign of 
a chance o’ gittin’ any work aout o’ ye ? ” 

“ I reckon I’ve paid for my keep for more’n one 
year,” the other declared vehemently ; and up to the 
last time father went away he always paid you for my 
board — he told me so himself.” 

“ He did, did he ? ” exclaimed Uncle Arad, in anger. 
‘‘Well, he ” 

Don’t you say my father lied ! ” cried the boy, his 


24 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


-eyes flashing and his fists clenched threateningly. “ If 
you do, you’ll wish you hadn’t.” 

“ Well — I ain’t said so, hev I ? ” whined Uncle 
Arad, fairly routed by this vehemence. “ Ain’t you 
a pretty boy to threaten an old man like me, Brandon 
Tarr?” 

Brandon relapsed into sullen silence, and the old 
man went on : 

“ Mebbe Horace thought he paid your board, but 
the little money he ever give me never more’n ha’f 
covered the expense ye’ve been ter me, Don.” 

His hearer sniflPed contemptuously at this. He 
Lnew well enough that he had done a man’s work 
about the Tarr place in summer, and all the chores 
during winter before and after school hours, for the 
^better part of three years, and had amply repaid any 
outlay the old man had made. 

Old Arad Tarr was reckoned as a miser by his 
townsmen, and they were very nearly correct. By 
inheritance the farm never belonged to him, for he 
was the youngest son of old Abram Tarr, and had 
been started in business by his father when he was 
a young man, while his brother Ezra had the old 
homestead, as the eldest son should. 

But reverses came to Ezra, of which the younger 
brother, being successful in money matters, took ad- 
vantage, and when Ezra died at last (worked to death, 
the neighbors said) the property came into Arad’s 
hands. There was little enough left for the widow, 
who soon followed her husband to the grave, and 
for the two boys, Anson and Horace. 

Anson was of a roving, restless disposition, and 


BRANDON TARR AND UNCLE ARAD 


25 


he soon became disgusted with the grinding methods 
of old Arad, who sought to get double work out of 
his two nephews. So he left the farm, and, allured 
by visions of sudden wealth which led him all over 
the world, he followed from one scheme to another, 
never returning to the old place again, though his 
brother, Horace, heard from him occasionally. 

The younger lad was not long in following his 
brother’s footsteps (in leaving home, at least), and 
went to sea, where he rose rapidly from the ranks 
of the common sailor to the post of commander. 

He married a girl whom he had known in his boy- 
hood, and Brandon, the boy who was now left to 
the tender mercies of the great uncle, was their only 
child. 

By patient frugality Captain Tarr had amassed 
sufficient money to purchase a brig called the Silver 
Swan, and made several exceptionally fortunate voy- 
ages to South and West African ports, and to 
Oceanica. 

But after his wife’s death (she was always a deli- 
cate woman) his only wish seemed to be to gain a 
fortune that he might retire from the sea and live 
with his son, in whom his whole heart was now bound. 
There was a trace of the same visionary spirit in 
Horace Tarr’s nature that had been the motif of his 
brother Anson’s life, and hoping to gain great wealth 
by a sudden turning of the wheel of fortune, he spec- 
ulated with his savings. 

Like many other men, he trusted too much in ap- 
pearances and was wofully deceived, and every penny 


26 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


of his earnings for a number of voyages in the brig 
was swept away. 

His. last voyage had been to Cape Town, and on 
the return passage the good Silver Swan had struck 
on a rock somewhere off Cuba, and was a total loss, 
for neither the vessel itself, nor the valuable cargo, 
was insured for a penny’s worth. 

This had occurred nearly two months before, and 
the first news Brandon and Uncle Arad had received 
of the disaster was through the newspaper reports. 
Two surviving members of the crew were picked up 
by a New York bound steamship, from a raft which 
had been afloat nearly two weeks, and but one of the 
men was in a condition to give an intelligible account 
of the wreck. 

From his story there could be but little doubt of 
the total destruction of the Silver Swan and the loss 
of every creature on board, excepting himself and 
the mate, Caleb Wetherbee, who was so exhausted 
that he had been taken at once to the marine hos- 
pital. Captain Tarr had died on the raft, from hun- 
ger and a wound in the head received during the 
wrecking of his vessel. 

It was little wonder, then, with these painful facts 
so fresh in his mind, that young Brandon Tarr found 
it so hard to stifle his emotion while his great uncle 
Iiad been speaking. In fact, when presently the crab- 
bed old man opened his lips to speak again, he arose 
hastily, threw down his book, and seized his hat and 
coat. 

“ Fm going out to see if I can pick off that flock 
of crows I saw around this morning,” he said hastily. 


BRANDON TARR AND UNCLE ARAD 


27 


‘‘ If you do get a chance to plant anything this springs 
they’ll pull it up as fast as you cover the seed.” 

“ We kin put up scarecrows,” said Arad, with a 
scowl, his dissertation on the “ shiftlessness ” of Don’s 
father thus rudely broken off. 1 can’t afford you 
powder an’ shot ter throw away at them birds.” 

“ Nobody asked you to pay for it,” returned the 
boy gruffly, and buttoning the old coat about him, and 
seizing his rifle from the hooks above the door, he 
went out into the damp outside world, which, despite 
its unpleasantness, was more bearable than the atmos- 
phere of the farm house kitchen. 

The farm which had come into Arad Tarr’s pos- 
session in what he termed a ‘‘ business way,” contained 
quite one hundred acres of cultivated fields, rocky 
pastures, and forest land. 

It was a productive farm and turned its owner a 
pretty penny every year, but judging from the ap- 
pearance of the interior of the house and the dilapi- 
dated condition of the barn and other outbuildings,, 
one would not have believed it. 

There was sufficient work on the farm every year 
to keep six hired hands beside Brandon and the old 
man, himself, “ on the jump ” every minute during 
the spring, summer, and fall. 

In the winter they two alone managed to do the 
chores, and old Arad even discharged the woman who- 
cooked for the men during the working season. 

As soon as the season opened, however, and the old 
man was obliged to hire help, the woman (who was a 
widow and lived during the winter with a married 
sister in the neighborhood) was established again 


28 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


in the Tarr house, and until the next winter they lived 
in a manner that Brandon termed “ like Christians, 
for she was a good cook and a neat housekeeper; but 
left to their own devices during the cold weather, he 
and his great uncle made sorry work of it. 

“ The frost is pretty much out of the ground now,'' 
Brandon muttered as he crossed the littered barn- 
yard, “ and this drizzle will mellow up the earth in 
great shape. As soon as it stops. Uncle Arad will 
dig right in and work to make up for lost time, I 
s’pose." 

He climbed the rail fence and jumped down into the 
sodden field beyond, the tattered old army coat (left 
by some hired hand and used by him in wet weather) 
flapping dismally about his boots. 

I wonder what’ll become of me now," he con- 
tinued, still addressing himself, as he plodded across 
the field, sinking ankle deep in the wet soil. Now 
that father’s gone there’s nothing left for me to do 
but to shift for myself and earn my own living. Poor 
father wanted me to get an education first before I 
went into anything, but there’ll be no more chance 
for that here. I can see plainly that Uncle Arad 
means to shut down on school altogether now. 

“ I’ll never get ahead any as long as I stay here 
and slave for him,’’ he pursued. “ He’ll be more ex- 
acting than ever, now that father is gone — he didn’t 
dare treat me too meanly before. He’ll make it up 
now, I reckon, if I stay, and I just won't!'' 

He had been steadily approaching the woods and 
at this juncture there was a rush of wings and a sud- 
den “ caw ! caw ! " 


BRANDON TARR AND UNCLE ARAD 


29 


Crows are generally considered to be endowed with 
a faculty for knowing when a gun is brought within 
range, but this particular band must have been asleep, 
for Brandon was quite within shooting distance as the 
great birds labored heavily across the lots. 

The rifle, the lock of which he had kept dry be- 
neath his armpit, was at his shoulder in a twinkling, 
there was a sharp report, and one of the birds fell 
heavily to the ground, while its frightened companions 
wheeled with loud outcry and were quickly out of 
view behind the woods. 

Brandon walked on and picked up the fallen bird. 

“ Shot his head pretty nearly off,” he muttered. 
“ I believe Til go West. Knowing how to shoot 
might come in handy there,” and he laughed grimly. 

Then, with the bird in his hand, he continued his 
previous course, and penetrated beneath the dripping 
branches of the trees. 

Pushing his way through the brush for a rod or two 
he reached a plainly defined path which, cutting ob- 
liquely across the wood lot, connected the road on 
which the Tarr house stood with the “ pike ” which 
led to the city, fourteen miles away. 

Entering this path, he strolled leisurely on, his 
mind intent upon the situation in which his father’s 
death had placed him. 

” I haven’t a dollar, or not much more than that 
sum,” he thought, “ nor a friend, either. I can’t ex- 
pect anything but the toughest sort of a pull, wherever 
I go or whatever I take up ; but it can’t be worse than 
^twould be here, working for Uncle Arad.” 

After traversing the path for some distance, Don 


30 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


reached a spot where a rock cropped up beside the 
way, and he rested himself on this, still studying on the 
problem which had been so fully occupying his mind 
for several weeks past. 

As he sat there, idly pulling handfuls of glossy 
black feathers from the dead crow, the noise of a foot- 
step on the path in his rear caused him to spring up 
and look in that direction. 

A man was coming down the path — a sinister 
faced, heavily bearded man, who slouched along so 
awkwardly that Brandon at first thought him lame. 
But the boy had seen a few sailors, besides his father, 
in his life, and quickly perceived that the stranger’s 
gait was caused simply by a long experience of tread- 
ing the deck of a vessel at sea. 

He was a solidly built man, not below the medium 
height, yet his head was set so low between his shoul- 
ders, and thrust forward in such a way that it gave 
him a dwarfed appearance. His hands were rammed 
deeply into his pockets, an old felt hat was drawn 
down over his eyes, and his aspect was generally seedy 
and not altogether trustworthy. 

He started suddenly upon seeing the boy, and gazed 
at him intently as he approached. 

'‘Well, shipmate, out gunning?” he demanded, in 
a tone which was intended to be pleasant. 

“ A little,” responded Brandon, kicking the body 
of the dead crow into the bushes. " We’re always 
gunning for those fellows up this way.” 

" Crows, eh ? ” said the man, stopping beside the 
boy, who had rested himself on the rock again. 


BRANDON TARR AND UNCLE ARAD 


31 


They’re great chaps for pullin’ corn — faster’n you 
farmers can plant it, eh ? ” 

Brandon nodded curtly, and wondered why the 
tramp (as he supposed him) did not go along. 

“ Look here, mate,” went on the man, after a mo- 
ment, “ I’m lookin’ for somebody as lives about here, 
by the name of Tarr ” 

“ Why, you’re on the Tarr place now,” replied 
Brandon, with sudden interest. “ That’s my name, 
too.” 

“ No, it isn’t now ! ” exclaimed the stranger, in sur- 
prise. 

A quick flash of eagerness came over his face as he 
spoke. 

“You’re not Brandon Tarr?” he added. 

“ Yes, sir,” replied Don, in surprise. 

“Not Captain Horace Tarr’s son! God bless ye, 
my boy. Give us your hand 1 ” 

The man seized the hand held out to him half 
doubtfully, and shook it warmly, at the same time 
seating himself beside the boy. 

“ You knew my father?” asked Brandon, not very 
favorably impressed by the man’s appearance, yet 
knowing no real reason why he should not be friendly. 

“ Knew him ! Why, my boy, I was his best 
friend ! ” declared the sailor. “ Didn’t you ever hear 
him speak of Cale Wetherbee?” 

“ Caleb Wetherbee 1 ” cried Don, with some pleas- 
ure. 

He had never seen his father’s mate, but he had 
heard the captain speak of him many times. This 
man did not quite come up to his expectation of 


32 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


what the mate of the Silver Swan should have been, 
but he knew that his father had trusted Caleb Wether- 
bee, and that appearances are sometimes deceitful. 

“ Indeed I have heard him speak of you many 
times,” and the boy’s voice trembled slightly as he 
offered his hand a second time far more warmly. 

“ Yes, sir,” repeated the sailor, blowing his nose 
with ostentation, “ I’m an old friend o’ your father’s. 
He — he died in my arms.” 

Brandon wiped his own eyes hastily. He had 
loved his father with all the strength of his nature, 
and his heart was too sore yet to be rudely touched. 

“Why, jest before he — he died, he give me them 
papers to send to ye, ye know.” 

As he said this the man flashed a quick, keen look 
at Brandon, but it was lost upon him. 

“ What papers ? ” he asked with some interest. 

“ What papers ? ” repeated the sailor, springing 
up. “ D’ye mean ter say ye never got a package o’ 
papers from me a — a month ergo, I reckon ’twas ? ” 

“ I haven’t received anything through the mail since 
the news came of the loss of the brig,” declared Don, 
rising also. 

“ Then that mis’rable swab of an ’orspital fellow 
never sent ’em ! ” declared the man, with apparent 
anger. “Ye see, lad, I was laid up quite a spell in 
the ’orspital — our sufferings on that raft was jest 
orful — an’ I couldn’t help myself. But w’en your 
father died he left some papers with me ter be sent 
ter you, an’ I got the ’orspital nurse to send ’em. An’ 
you must hev got ’em — eh ? ” 


BRANDON TARR AND UNCLE ARAD 33 

‘‘ Not a thing/^ replied Brandon convincingly. 
‘‘Were they of any value?’' 

“ Valible? I should say they was ! ” cried the sailor. 
“ Werry valible, indeed. Why, boy, they’d er made 
our — I sh’d say your — fortune, an’ no mistake ! ” 
Without doubt his father’s old friend was strangely 
moved by the intelligence he had received, and Don 
could not but be interested in the matter. ^ 


CHAPTER III 


'AN ACCOUNT 0^ THE WRECK OF THE SILVER SWAN 

“ To what did these papers bear reference ? ” Bran- 
don asked. “ Father met with heavy misfortunes in 
his investments last year, and every penny, excepting^ 
the Swan itself, was lost. How could these papers 
have benefited me ? 

“ Well, that I don’t rightly know,” replied the 
sailor slowly. 

He looked at the boy for several seconds with knit- 
ted brows, evidently deep in thought. Brandon could 
not help thinking what a rough looking specimen he 
was, but remembering his father’s good opinion of 
Caleb Wetherbee, he banished the impression as un- 
generous. 

“ I b’lieve I’ll tell ye it jest as it happened,” said 
the man at length. ” Sit down here again, boy, an' 
I’ll spin my yarn.” 

He drew forth a short, black pipe, and was soon 
puffing away upon it, while comfortably seated beside 
Don upon the rock. 

“ ’Twere the werry night we sailed from the Cape,” 
he began, “ that I was — er — in the cabin of the Sil- 
ver Swan, lookin’ at a new chart the cap’n had got, 
when down comes a decently dressed chap — a land- 
34 


AN ACCOUNT OF THE WRECK 


35 


lubber, ev'ry inch o’ him — an’ asks if this were 
Cap’n Horace Tarr. 

‘ It is,’ says the cap’n. 

“ ' Cap’n Horace Tarr, of Rhode Island, U. S. A.? ’ 
says he. 

‘ That’s me,’ says the cap’n ag’in. 

“ ‘ Well, Cap’n Tarr,’ says the stranger chap, a- 
lookin’ kinder squint eyed at me, ‘ did you ever have 
a brother Anson ? ' 

“ Th’ cap’n noticed his lookin’ at me an’ says, afore 
he answered the question: 

‘ Ye kin speak freely,’ says he, ‘ this is my mate, 
Cale Wetherbee, an’ there ain’t a squarer man, nor 
an honester, as walks the deck terday,’ says he. ‘ Yes, 
I had a brother Anson ; but I persume he’s dead.’ 

I “ ‘ Yes, he is dead,’ said the stranger. ‘ He died 
up country, at a place they calls Kimberley, ’bout two 
months ago.’ 

! That was surprisin’ ter the cap’n, I reckon, an’ he 
tol’ the feller that he’d supposed Anson Tarr dead 
years before, as he hadn’t heard from him. 

“ ‘ No, he died two months ago,’ says the man, ‘ an’ 
I was with him. He died o’ pneumony — was took 
werry sudden.’ 

“ Nat’rally this news took the old man — I sh’d say 
yer father — all aback, as it were, an’ he inquired 
inter his brother’s death fully. Fin’ly the man drew 
put a big package — papers he said they was — wot 
Anson Tarr had given him ter be sure ter give ter the 
cap’n when he sh’d see him. Then the feller went. 

“ O’ course, the cap’n didn’t tell me wot the docy- 
ments was, but I reckoned by his actions, an’ some 


36 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


o’ the hints he let drop, that they was valible, an’ I — 
I got it inter my head that ’twas erbout money — er 
suthin’ o’ the kind — that your Uncle Anson 
knowed of. 

“ Wal, the Silver Swan, she left the Cape, ’n’ all 
went well till arter we touched at Rio an’ was homer 
ward boun’. Then a gale struck us that stripped the 
brig o’ ev’ry stick o’ timber an’ every rag o’ sail, an’ 
druv her onter thet ’ere rock. There warn’t no hope 
for the ol’ brig an’ she began to go ter pieces to once, 
so we tried ter take to the boats. 

“ But the boats was smashed an’ the only ones 
left o’ the hull ship’s company was me’n Paulo Montez, 
and yer father, an’ — an’ another feller. We built the 
raft and left the ol’ brig, just as she — er — slid off 
er th’ rock an’ sunk inter the sea. It — it mos’ broke 
yer father’s heart ter see the ol’ brig go down an’ I 
felt m’self, jest as though I’d lost er — er friend, er 
suthin ! ” 

The sailor paused in his narrative and drew hard 
upon his pipe for a moment. 

Wal, you know by the papers how we floated 
around on that ’ere raf’ an’ how yer poor father was 
took. He give me these papers just afore he died, an’ 
made me promise ter git ’em ter you, ef I was saved. 
He said you’d understand ’em ter oncet, an’,” looking 
at Brandon keenly out of the corners of his eyes, “ I 
didn’t know but ye knew something about it already.” 

Brandon slowly shook his head. 

“No,” he said; “I can’t for the life of me think 
what they could refer to.” 


AN ACCOUNT OF THE WRECK 


37 


“ No — - no buried treasure, nor nothing of the 
kind ? ” suggested the man hesitatingly. 

“ I guess not ! ” exclaimed Don. “ If I knew about 
such a thing, you can bet I’d be after it right quickly, 
for I don’t know any one who needs money just at 
the present moment more than I.” 

“ Well, I believe I’ll go,” cried the sailor, rising 
hastily. “ That ’orspital feller must hev forgotten 
ter mail them papers, an’ I’ll git back ter New York 
ter oncet, an’ see ’bout it. I b’lieve they’ll be of vally 
to ye, an’ if ye want my help in any way, jest let me 
know. I — I’ll give ye a place ter ’dress letters to, 
an’ I’ll call there an’ git ’em.” 

He produced an old stump of a pencil from his 
pocket and a ragged leather note case. From this he 
drew forth a dog eared business card of some ship 
chandler’s firm, on the blank side of which he wrote 
in a remarkably bad hand: 

CALEB WETHERBEE, 

New England Hotel, 

Water Street, 

New York. 

Then he shook Don warmly by the hand, and prom- 
ising to get the papers from the “ ’orspital feller ” at 
once, struck away toward the city again, leaving the 
boy in a statement of great bewilderment. 

He didn’t know what the papers could refer to, yet 
like all boys who possess a good digestion and aver- 
age health, he had imagined enough to fancy a hun- 
dred things that they might contain. Perhaps there 


38 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


was some great fortune which his Uncle Anson had 
known about, and had died before he could reap the 
benefit of his knowledge. 

Yet, he felt an instinctive distrustfulness of this 
Caleb Wetherbee. He was not at all the kind of man 
he had expected him to be, for although Captain Tarr 
had never said much about the personal appearance 
of the mate of the Silver Swan, still Don had pictured 
Caleb to his mind’s eye as a far different looking 
being. 

As he stood there in the path, deep in thought, and 
with his eyes fixed upon the spot where he had seen 
the sailor disappear, the fluttering of a bit of paper 
attracted his attention. He stooped and secured it, 
finding it to be a greasy bit of newspaper that had 
doubtless reposed for some days in the note case of 
the sailor, and had fallen unnoticed to the ground 
while he was penciling his address on the card now in 
Don’s possession. 

One side of the scrap of paper was a portion of an 
advertisement, but on the other side was a short item 
of news which Don perused with growing interest. 

Savannah, March 3. The Brazilian steamship Monte- 
video, which arrived here in the morning, reports having 
sighted, about forty miles west of the island of Cuba, a dere- 
lict brig, without masts or rigging of any kind, but with hull 
in good condition. It was daylight, and by running close the 
Montevideo’s captain made the wreck out to be the Silver 
Swan, of Boston, which was reported as having been driven 
on to Reef Number 8, east of Cuba, more than a month ago. 
The two surviving members of the crew of the Silver Swan 
were picked up from a raft, after twelve days of terrible suf- 
fering, by the steamship Alexandria, of the New York and 


AN ACCOUNT OF THE WRECK 


39 ' 


Rio Line. The Montevideo’s officers report the brig as being 
a most dangerous derelict, as in its present condition it may- 
keep afloat for months, having evidently withstood the shock 
of grounding on the reef, and later being driven off by the 
westerly gale of February 13th. 

Her position, when sighted by the Montevideo, has been 
reported to the Hydrographic Office, and will appear on the 
next monthly chart. 


CHAPTER IV 


BRANDON COMES TO A DECISION 

The first thought which flashed across Brandon 
Tarr’s mind as he read the newspaper item quoted in 
the previous chapter was that the story of the wreck 
of the Silver Swan^ as told by the old sailor, had been 
totally misleading. 

“ Why, he lied — point blank — to me ! ” he ex- 
claimed, “ and with this very clipping in his pocket, 
too.” 

He half started along the path as though to pur- 
sue the sailor, and then thought better of it. 

“ He declared that he saw the Swan go down with 
his own eyes; and here she was afloat on the 13th of 
March — a month after the wreck. He must have 
wanted to keep the knowledge of that fact from me. 
But what for ? Ah ! those papers ! ” 

With this Brandon dropped back on the rock again 
and read the newspaper clipping through once more. 
Then he went over the whole matter in his mind. 

What possible object could Caleb Wetherbee have 
in coming to him and telling him the yarn he had, if 
there was no foundation for it? There must be some 
reason for the story, Brandon was sure. 

Evidently there had been papers either given into 
the hands of the mate of the Silver Swan, or ob- 
40 


BRANDON COMES TO A DECISION 


41 


tained by him by dishonest means. These papers 
must relate to some property of value which had be- 
longed to Anson Tarr, Don’s uncle, and, his cupid- 
ity being aroused, the sailor was trying to convert 
the knowledge contained in them to his own benefit. 

There was probably some “ hitch ” in the docu- 
ments — something the rascally mate could not un- 
derstand, but which he thought Brandon could ex- 
plain. Therefore, his trip to Chopmist from New 
Yprk to “ pump ” the captain’s son. 

“ Without doubt,” said the boy, communing with 
himself, “ the papers were brought aboard the brig 
just as this rascally Wetherbee said, and they were 
from Uncle Anson. Let’s see, he said he died at Kim- 
berley — why, that’s right at the diamond mines ! ” 
For like most boys with adventurous spirits and well 
developed imagination, Brandon had devoured much 
that had been written about the wonderful diamond 
diggings of South Africa. 

“Perhaps — who knows?” his thoughts ran on, 
“ Uncle Anson ‘ struck it rich ’ at the diamond mines 
before he died. There’s nothing impossible in that — 
excepting the long run of ill luck which had cursed 
this family.” 

He shook his head thoughtfully. 

“ If Uncle Anson had owned a share in a paying 
diamond mine, this rascally sailor would have known 
at once that the papers relating to it could not benefit 
him, for the ownership would be on record there in 
Kimberley. It must, therefore, be that the property — 
whatever it may be — is in such shape that it can be 
removed from place to place — perhaps was brought 


42 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


aboard the brig by the friend of Uncle Anson who 
told father of his death.” • 

For the moment the idea did not assist in the ex- 
planation of the course of Caleb Wetherbee in retain- 
ing the papers. But Brandon had set himself to the 
task of reasoning out the mystery, and when one 
thread failed him he took up another. 

“ One would think,” he muttered, that if there 
had been any money brought aboard the brig, father 
would have taken it on the raft with him when they 
left; but still, would he? 

“ According to the report the brig grounded on 
Reef Number 8, and perhaps was not hurt below the 
water line. The next gale from the west’ard blew 
her off again. She is now a derelict, and if the money 
■was hidden on hoard it would he there now!” 

At this sudden thought Brandon sprang up in ex- 
citement and paced up and down the path. 

He had often heard of the wrecks of vessels aban- 
doned in mid ocean floating thousands of miles with- 
out a hand to guide their helms, a menace and dan- 
ger to all other craft. The Silver Swan might float 
for months — aye, for years; such a thing was pos- 
sible. 

“ And if the money — if it is money — is hidden 
aboard the brig, the one who finds the derelict first 
will have it,” was the thought which came to him. 

“ But why should the mate come to me about it ? ” 
Brandon asked himself. “ Why need he let me know 
anything about the papers, or the treasure, if he 
wished to recover it himself? Didn’t he know where 
on the brig the moneywas hidden? Or didn’t the pa- 
pers tell that ? ” 


BRANDON COMES TO A DECISION 


45 


He cudgled his brains for several minutes to think 
where his father would have been likely to hide any- 
thing of value on the brig. Was there any place 
which only he and his father had known about? 

This idea suggested a train of reminiscences. He 
had been aboard the Silver Swan several times while 
she lay in Boston, and had been all over her. 

Once, jpossibly four years before (it seemed a long- 
time to him now), he had been alone with his father 
in the cabin, and Captain Tarr had shown him an 
ingeniously hidden sliding panel in the bulkhead, be- 
hind which was a little steel lined cavity, in which 
the captain kept his private papers. 

Perhaps Caleb Wetherbee did not know about this- 
cupboard, and it was this information that he wished 
to get from him. The idea seemed probable enough, 
for if he did not know where the treasure was hidden 
on the brig, what good would the papers relating to it 
be to him? 

There may be a fortune there, just within my 
grasp, and yet I not be able to get at it,’' muttered 
Don, pacing the rough path nervously. 

“ Despite his former confidence in this Wetherbee,. 
father must have doubted him at the last and not 
dared to take the treasure (if treasure it really is) 
when he left the brig. 

“ Instead, he gave him these papers, hoping the fel- 
low would be honest enough to place them in my 
hands; but, still fearing to fully trust the mate, he 
wrote his directions to me so blindly, that Wetherbee 
is all at sea about what to do. 

Wetherbee knows that the brig is afloat — this 


44 


tTHE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


clipping proves that — and he hoped to get the in- 
formation he wanted from me and then go in search 
of the Silver Swan. Why can I not go in search of 
it myself f” 

The thought almost staggered him for an instant, 
yet to his boyish mind the plan seemed feasible 
enough. He knew that derelicts are often carried by 
the ocean currents for thousands of miles before they 
sink, yet their movements are gradual, and by a close 
study of the hydrographic charts he believed it would 
be possible to locate the wrecked brig. 

“ Tve got no money, I know,” he thought, ‘‘ at 
least, not much ; but I've health and strength and an 
ordinary amount of pluck, and it will be strange if I 
can’t accomplish my purpose if the old brig only 
holds together long enough.” 

He looked at the soiled card the sailor had given 
him. 

“ ‘ New England Hotel, Water Street,’ ” he re- 
peated. “ Some sailors’ boarding house, likely. I 
believe — yes, I will — go to New York myself and 
see this scoundrelly Wetherbee again. He can’t do 
much without me, I fancy, and perhaps, after all, I 
can use him to my own benefit. I ought to be as 
smart as an ignorant old sailor like him.” 

He stood still a moment, gazing steadily at the 
ground. 

“ I’ll do it, I vow I will ! ” he exclaimed at last, 
raising his head defiantly. Uncle Arad’s got no 
hold upon me and I’ll go. I’ll start tomorrow morn- 
ing,” with which determination he picked up his rifle 
and left the woods. 


CHAPTER V 


UNCLE ARAD HAS RECOURSE TO LEGAL FORCE 

In the several oceans of our great globe there are 
many floating wrecks, abandoned for various causes 
by their crews, which may float on and on, without 
rudder or sail, for months, and even years. Especially 
is this true of the North Atlantic Ocean, where, dur- 
ing the past five years, nearly a thousand “ derelicts,” 
as these floating wrecks are called, were reported. 

The Hydrographic Office at Washington prints a 
monthly chart on which all the derelicts reported by 
incoming vessels are plainly marked, even their posi- 
tion in the water being designated by a little picture 
of the wreck. 

By this method of keeping run ” of the wrecks, 
it has been found that some float thousands of miles 
before they finally reach their ultimate port — Davy 
Jones’ locker. 

The average life of these water logged hulks is, 
however, but thirty days; otherwise the danger from 
collision with them would be enormous and the loss 
of life great. Many of those vessels which have left 
port within the past few years and never again been 
heard from, were doubtless victims of collisions with 
some of these derelicts. 

Several more or less severe accidents have been 
45 


46 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


caused by them, and so numerous have they become 
that, within the past few months, several vessels be^ 
longing to our navy have gone “ derelict cruising ” — 
blowing up and sinking the most dangerous wrecks 
afloat in the North Atlantic. 

At the time of the Silver Swan’s reported loss, 
however, it was everybody’s business to destroy the 
vessels, and therefore nobody’s. At any time, how- 
ever, the hull of the brig, reported by the steamship 
Montevideo as floating off Cuba, might be run into 
and sunk by some other vessel, such collisions being 
not at all uncommon. 

Brandon Tarr realized that there was but a small 
chance of the Silver Swan being recovered, owing 
to these circumstances; yet he would not have been a 
Tarr had he not been willing to take the chance and 
do all he could to secure what he was quite convinced 
was a valuable treasure. 

Derelicts had been recovered and towed into port 
for their salvage alone, and the Silver Swan was, he 
knew, richly laden. It might also be possible to re- 
pair the hull of the brig, for she was a well built 
craft, and if she had withstood the shock of being 
ground on the reef so well, she might even yet be 
made to serve for several years. 

These thoughts flitted through the mind of the boy 
as he slowly crossed the wet fields toward the farm 
house. 

“I’ll go tomorrow morning — Uncle Arad or no 
Uncle Arad,” he decided. “ It won’t do to leave the 
old fellow alone, so I’ll step down after dinner and 
speak to Mrs. Hemingway about coming up here. 


RECOURSE TO LEGAL FORCE 


47 


He will have to have her any way within a few days, 
so it won’t much matter.” 

He didn’t really know how to broach the subject 
to the old man, for he felt assured that his great 
uncle would raise manifold objections to his depar- 
ture. He had lived at the farm four years now and 
Uncle Arad had come to depend on him in many ways. 

They had eaten dinner — a most miserable meal — 
and Don was washing the dishes before he spoke. 

Uncle Arad,” he said, trying to talk in a most mat- 
ter of fact way, “ now that father is — is gone 
and I have nothing to look forward to, I believe I’ll 
strike out for myself. I’m past sixteen and big 
enough and old enough to look out for myself. I 
think I shall get along faster by being out in the world 
and brushing against folks, and I reckon I’ll go to 
New York.” 

Uncle Arad fairly wilted into his seat, and stared 
at Don in utter surprise. 

“ Go to New York? ” he gasped. 

“ That’s what I said.” 

Go to New York — jest when yer gittin’ of some 
account ter me ? ” 

“ Oh, I’ve been of some account to you for some 
time, and any way father always paid my board be- 
fore last fall, you know,” said Don cheerfully. 

Uncle Arad snorted angrily, and his eyes began to 
flash fire. 

“ Paid your board ! ” he exclaimed. I dunno 
what put that inter your head.” 

“ Father put it there, that’s who,” declared Don 
hotly. 


48 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


never give him no receipts for board money/' 
cried the old man. “ You can’t show a one ! ” 

“ I don’t suppose you did,” returned Don, with 
scorn. “ You never give receipts for anything if 
you can help it. If you’d given receipts to your own 
brother as you ought, you wouldn’t be in possession 
of this farm now.” 

“ I wouldn’t, hey ? ” cried the old man, goaded to 
desperation by this remark, which he knew only too 
well to be true. “You little upstart you! Ye’ll go 
ter New York, whether ’r no, will ye?” 

He arose in his wrath and shook his bony fist in 
Don’s face. The youth looked down upon him scorn- 
fully, for the man would have been no match for him 
at all. 

“ Now don’t have a fit,” he said calmly. “ I’m 
going to step ’round to Mrs. Hemingway’s after din- 
ner, and get her to come up here and look after you. 
You’ll need her any way, in a few days.” 

“ It won’t matter ! it won’t matter ! ” shrieked Uncle 
Arad, exasperated by the boy’s coolness. “ It won’t 
matter, I s’pose, when I hev ter pay three dollars — 
three dollars, mind ye — fur a hull week’s extry 
work I ” 

He fairly stamped about the room in his fury. 

“ It don’t matter, eh, when I’ll have ter hire a man 
ter take your place? Be you crazy, Brandon Tarr?” 

“ Guess not,” responded Don, wiping the last dish 
and hanging up the towel to dry. “ You must think 
me crazy, however. Do you s’pose I’d stayed here 
this season without wages?” 

“ Wages ! ” again shrieked the old man, to whom the 


RECOURSE TO LEGAL FORCE 


49 


thought of paying out a penny was positive pain. 

Wages! an’ you a beggar — yes, sir, a beggar! — 
’pendent upon my bounty, as it were.” 

Don smiled at this. 

“I’m a pretty sturdy beggar, as they used to call 
’em in the old days,” he said. 

“ Wal, any way. I’m your guardeen, an’ I’ll see if 
you’re goin’ jest when you like.” 

Don laughed outright now. 

“ My guardian ! ” he responded. “ I’d like to know 
why I should have any guardian. I’ve no property, 
goodness knows. And as you said about the board 
receipts, where are your papers giving you any legal 
control over me? ” 

The old man was utterly taken aback at this and 
sat down again, glowering at his nephew angrily, 
while the latter put on his hat and coat and departed 
on his errand to Mrs. Hemingway’s. 

But Arad Tarr was not the man to see either money 
or its equivalent slipping his grasp without strenuous 
efforts to retain it. His nephew represented to him 
just so much hard cash saved, for if Brandon went 
away Uncle Arad realized that the hiring of an extra 
hand would be an absolute necessity. 

Therefore, the boy had not been gone long before 
the old man decided on a line of action. He struggled 
into his own coat, locked up the house, and harnessed 
a horse to a dilapidated light wagon. He was too 
careful of his good vehicles to take anything but this 
out on such a nasty day. 

“That boy is- a-gettin’ too upstartish!” he de- 
clared, climbing into the wagon and chirruping to the 


50 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


horse. “ He’s jest like Anson an’ Horace. There 
was no livin’ with them, an’ now he's got this fool 
notion inter his head erbout goin’ away ! 

“ But I’ll git that aout o’ him,” he added, with em- 
phasis. If I hain’t got no legal right ter his serv- 
ices, I will have, now I tell ye ! Arter all I’ve done 
fur him an’ fur his shif’less, no’count pa, I ain’t goin’ 
ter let go o’ him till he comes of age — mos’ five 
years yet.” 

He shook his head slowly at that thought. Five 
years of Brandon’s services on the farm would be 
worth all of twenty-five hundred dollars ! 

He clucked to the horse and drove on the faster at 
that. Suppose the boy should take it into his head 
to go before he obtained the papers which he was 
sure he could have made out? The idea was quite 
agonizing. 

” I reckon Squire Holt kin fix it up for me in short 
order,” he muttered, as he urged his horse into a 
faster trot. “ I’ll show that boy ’t he ain’t his own 
master, by no means ! ” 


3 


CHAPTER VI 

RELATING A MEETING BETWEEN UNCLE ARAD AND THE 
SAILOR 

The old man drove on through the mud and slush 
of the country road, the wheels of the rickety vehicle 
first rattling over outcropping rocks and boulders, and 
then splashing half way to their hubs in the yellow 
mire. 

A mile beyond his own farm he turned into a 
broader highway which trended to the right — the 
city “ pike.” Woods bordered the way on either 
side and although the rain had ceased, the drops fell 
in showers from the trees. It was a nasty day and 
the horse splashed itself to the belly with the mire. 

Not many rods beyond the turn old Arad overtook a 
man walking in the same direction that he was driv- 
ing, and as the farmer rattled up, the man stepped to 
one side and hailed him. 

He was a bronzed and bearded fellow, dressed in 
garments about as seedy as the miser^s own clothing, 
and although he lacked all of twenty years of Arad’s 
age, his back, as he stood there beside the cart path, 
seemed almost as bent. 

Hullo, shipmate ! ” was the man’s greeting, rais- 
ing his hand for the farmer to stop. “ Coin’ toward 
the city?” 


51 


52 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


“ Wd, I be a piece,” replied Arad grudgingly. 

It was something of an effort for him to speak 
civilly to a casual stranger. I presume he was afraid 
of wearing out the small stock of civility he possessed. 

“ Ye’re goin’ in ballast, I see,” said the stranger. 

Can’t ye stow me away there ? ” 

“ Hey ? ” responded the farmer, who did not under- 
stand the other’s figure of speech. 

“ I say ye’re goin’ in ballast,” repeated the man ; 
“ yer wagon’s empty, ye know. Give me a ride, 
will ye? ” 

” Wal, I dunno,” said Arad slowly, with a sudden 
avaricious twinkle in his eye. “ I know the team’s 
empty, but th’ mare ain’t s’ limber ’s she might be, an’ 
it’s hard trav’lin’.” 

“ Got an eye on the main chance, ain’t ye, ye old 
land shark ? ” muttered the man. Then he said aloud : 

How fur ye goin’ on this road ? ” 

“ ’Bout three mile furder.” 

“ What’ll ye take me that fur, for ? ” 

“ Wall, I dunno,” began Arad. 

“ Come, I’ll give ye a quarter,” said the stranger, 
fishing a handful of silver from the depths of his 
pocket. 

The old man’s eyes flashed. 

“ Jump aboard,” he said briefly, and the black 
bearded man sprang to the seat with great agility. 

“ Ye’re some limber,” said the old farmer, in ad- 
miration, pocketing the quarter and starting up his 
horse again. 

“ You’d be if ye’d shinned up as many riggin’s as 
I hev.” 


UNCLE ARAD AND THE SAILOR 


S3 


‘'Ye’re a sailor, then?” 

“ I be. No land lubber erbout me, is ther’ ? I 
reckon ye don’t see many sailors in these parts ? ” 

“ Ya-as we do,” snarled Arad impolitely ; “ more’n’ 
we wanter sometimes. I got a nevvy who was a 
sailor — a cap’n. Lost at sea erbout two months ergo. 
Lef’ me er great, hulkin’ boy ter take keer of.” 

“ Great Peter ! ” exclaimed the sailor, with some 
astonishment. “ Ye don’t mean Cap’n Horace Tarr? ” 

“ Yes, I do mean Cap’n Horace Tarr,” growled 
Arad. “He was my nevvy, an’ it’s his no ’count, 
wuthless boy I’ve got on my ban’s. My name’s Arad 
Tarr — ’n’ th’ only Tarr ’t ever knew ’nough ter make 
money an’ keep it.” 

The sailor looked at the weazened old figure curi- 
ously. 

“ He didn’t favor you none,” he said. 

“Who didn’t? Horace Tarr? I reckon he 
didn’t ! ” exclaimed Arad. “ He favored a ca’f more’n 
he did anything else, ’cordin’ ter my notion. Did ye 
know him ? ” added the old man curiously. 

“ In course I did. I sailed with him — er — lots. 
Why, I was with him this ’ere las’ v’y’ge o’ his.” 

“Ye don’t mean it! ” 

“ I guess I do.” 

“ Wal, wal ! ” exclaimed Uncle Arad, roused out of 
himself for a moment. “ So you was on that raf’ fur 
so long, eh? Must er been quite an experience. An’ 
Horace is really dead, is he ? ” 

“ Dead’s a door nail,” the sailor declared. “ Can’t 
be no mistake erbout that. We had ter pitch him 
overboard — er — another feller and me ; ’cause ’twas 


54 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


so all fired hot, ye know. Him and Paulo Montez 
both went ter the sharks.^’ 

The old man shuddered. 

An’ he died without leavin’ a cent, eh ? Poor’s 
poverty ! I alius knew how ’twould be. ’N’ I s’pose 
Anson — fur he mus’ be dead by this time — died 
poor, too.” 

The sailor looked at the old man sharply out of the 
corners of his eyes, and after a minute spoke again. 

“ Yes,” he said slowly, in confirmation of Uncle 
Arad’s remark. “ I was with the cap’n at the last.” 

What ye doin’ ’way up here ? ” inquired the 
farmer, with sudden interest. 

“ Well, I come up ter see Cap’n Tarr’s boy.” 

“Hey?” ejaculated the farmer. “Come ter see 
Brandon? ” 

“ That’s it,” said the sailor, nodding 

“ But ye didn’t see him ? ” 

“ Yes, I did; over yonder in the woods.” 

“ Why, he didn’t say nothin’ erbout it ter me,” 
gasped the old man. 

“ Mebbe ye ain’t seen him since,” suggested the 
sailor. 

“ When was yer er-talkin’ with him ? ” 

“ Long erbout two hours back, ’r so.” 

“’Fore dinner?” 

“ I reckon so. I seen him over in the woods yon- 
der, an’ talked with him quite a spell. I started ’long 
back towards the city a’gin, but I found out I’d lost 
— er — somethin’, an’ went back ter hev er look 
fur it.” 

“What was it ye lost?” asked Uncle Arad, with 


UNCLE ARAD AND THE SAILOR 55 / 

/ 

perhaps a momentary thought that, if it was of value 
and had been lost on his farm, he might be able to find 
it himself. 

Nothin’ but a piece of paper.” 

Find it?” 

Not me. Must ha’ blowed away. Howsomever,. 
that ain’t ter the p’int. It’s funny yer nevvy never 
tol’ erbout meetin’ me.” 

Old Arad was silent for a minute. 

“ I wish ye had’nt come ’round here, fillin' up his 
head with fool notions,” he grumbled. ^ “ Seein’ you 
must be what set him up ter leavin’ so sudden.” 

“ Goin’ to leave ye, is he ? ” asked the sailor quickly. 

He thinks he is,” returned the farmer, with a snarl. 

Th’ little upstart ! But I’ll Tarn him who’s who, 
now I tell ye? Coin’ ter New York, is he? Wal, I 
reckon not.” 

‘'To New York? What’s he goin’ there fur? I 
sh’d think ye’d want him right here on th’ farm,” said 
the sailor, with a cunning smile. 

“ So I do — an’ right here is where he’s goin’ ter 
stay,” declared Uncle Arad wrathfully. “ I’m er — 
goin’ down ter Square Holt’s ter see erbout it now. 

I’m either goin’ ter hev him bound ter me till he’s 
twenty-one, ’r git p’inted him gardeen. Then, I 
reckon he won’t talk no more erbout runnin’ off ter 
New York.” 

“ Yes, I reckon this place is the best fur a boy like 
him,” acquiesced the sailor. “ An’ then, ye orter be his 
guardeen. S’posin’ he had prop’ty failin’ to him now 
— you’d orter hev th’ handlin’ of it till he’s of age.” 

“ Prop’ty ! I guess ther’ won’t be none ter fall to 


56 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


him,” sniffed Uncle Arad. "7 ain't a dyin’ man. by 
no means, an' his pa didn't leave a cent. Didn't even 
hev that brig o' his'n insured.” 

‘‘ I dunno erbout that,” said the sailor shrewdly. 

What don't ye know erbout ? ” demanded Arad 
suspiciously. The Silver Swan wasn’t insured, were 
she?” 

“ I reckon not.” 

“ Then what d'ye mean ? ” 

Arad's piercing eyes were fixed searchingly on his 
companion’s face, but the sailor was not easily dis- 
turbed. 

‘‘ Well, now, I’ll put a case to ye — jest a s’posin' 
case, now mind ye,” he said calmly, as Arad, now 
thoroughly interested in the matter, let the old horse 
walk along the muddy highway. “ S’posin' now this 
’ere Cap’n Tarr had knowed erbout a buried treasure, 
'r some sich thing, an’ he’d writ erbout it, an’ give the 
papers ter another man — his mate, fur instance — 
ter be given ter his son. 

“ Now, nat’rally, if ther’ was any money in it fur 
this Brandon, you'd orter know erbout it, hadn’t ye? 
You bein' th’ hoy's guardeen, you’d orter handle that 
money ; un’ if I could help you ter the gettin’ o' that 
money, Fd orter hev a part of it, eh ? ” 

Old Arad stared at him with wide open eyes, and 
the hand which held the reins trembled visibly. 

“ Now, s’posin’ the mate sends them papers to 
Brandon through the mail, 'r writes a letter erbout 
’em — you’d orter know it, hadn’t ye? You’d orter 
see that letter, or them papers, an’ you’d jest drop me 
a line, an’ I c’d help ye get ’em, ’cause I know all 


UNCLE ARAD AND THE SAILOR 


57 


erbout sich things, bein’ a sea farin’ man fur thirty 
year.” 

Uncle Arad moistened his trembling lips before he 
could speak. 

But this is only s’posin’,” he said quaveringly. 

“But, s' pose 'twas so! S’pose I seen them papers 
passed, an’ s’pose I heered Cap’n Tarr say with his 
own lips ther’ was ’nough suthin ’r other (I couldn’t 
ketch th’ word — gold, mebbe) there ter make a man 
fabuously rich ? ” 

“ Fabulously rich ! ” repeated Arad. 

“ That’s it ; fabulously rich, is wot he said. An’ if 
it’s so, you orter to get the letters from the post office, 
an’ open every one of ’em, hadn’t ye ? ” 

Uncle Arad nodded quickly. 

“ O course ye had ; and if the letter or papers sh’d 
come from Caleb Wetherbee — thet’s the mate’s name ; 
he’s in the ’orspital yet — you’d let me know, an’ then 
we’d see wot we sh’d see, eh?” 

The sailor poked the old man familiarly in the ribs 
and slapped his own knee. 

“ That’s wot we’d do, shipmate,” he said. “ Wot 
say ye? Ye’ll need me, fur I reckon wherever th’ 
money’s hid, ye’ll need a sailor ter go ’long with ye — 
er ter git it fur ye.” 

“I — I couldn’t go ; my health ain’t good ’nough,” 
declared the farmer. “ Then — then — mebbe there 
ain’t nothin’ in it.” 

“ Well, mebbe there ain’t,” said the sailor calmly, 
preparing to dismount as the old man pulled up be- 
fore a house ; “ an’ then ag’in mebbe there is. Least- 
ways, I adwise ye ter jest keep yer eyes open fur let- 


S8 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

ters f’om New York. An’ when one comes from 
Caleb Wetherbee, p’r’aps ye’ll want ter talk with me 
furder.” 

“ Where — where kin I find ye ? ” Arad asked, in 
a shaking voice. 

Jest write ter Jim Leroyd, New England Hotel, 
Water Street, New York — that’ll fetch me,” declared 
the sailor briskly. “ Now remember, old feller,” he 
added meaningly, “ ye won’t be able ter do nothin’ 
with them papers ’thout me. If ye try it ye’ll be up a 
stump ter oncet. Now, take keer o’ yerself ! ” 

He turned away and rolled along the road toward 
the distant city, while Uncle Arad climbed down from 
the wagon. 

“ Fabulously rich ! ” he muttered to himself, as he 
fastened the horse to the hitching post with trembling 
hands. 


CHAPTER VII 


INTRODUCING SQUARE HOLT AND HIS OPINIONS 

“ Square ” Holt, who was a justice of the peace as 
well as the judge of the probate court of the town, 
was a very tall and very angular individual with a 
massive development of nose (old Arad Tarr’s was 
as nothing beside it) and a wide mouth continually 
drawn into a grim line, as though such a thing as a 
smile had never crossed his imagination — if, indeed, 
he had an imagination. 

He had no children of his own (which was an ex- 
ceedingly fortunate thing for the unborn generations)! 
and had apparently forgotten his own boyhood. Boys, 
in his estimation, were made to work — the harder 
the better. In this he was of the same opinion as 
Uncle Arad Tarr. 

Old Arad was at once admitted to the front parlor 
of the house at which he had stopped, which was 
used by the judge as his office when he was not at the 
town hall. Here, seated in one of the prim hair cloth 
chairs, with which his soiled and badly fitting gar- 
ments hardly harmonized, the old man told his story. 

“ That boy, square, comes o’ the shif’lessest kind o’ 
stock, ye know, ef his gran’father was my own 
brother,” he said, in conclusion. ‘‘ You ’member 
Ezra?” 


6o THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

Oh yes, I remember Ezra,” said the judge, grimly. 

“ Wal, then, ye know what a shif’less loose j’inted 
critter he was in business matters, an’ Anson an’ Hor- 
ace was as like him as two peas aout o’ the same pod. 
An’ now this ’ere Brandon hez got th’ same traits o’ 
no ’count shif’lessness.” 

“ Very likely, very likely,” said the other, with stern- 
ness. “ I’ve seen the youth, I think, out gunning quite 
frequently — a most objectionable practice.” 

“ Ye’re right, square,” old Arad exclaimed, with 
eagerness. “ Jest er firin’ erway good powder an’ 
shot ’t cost money. Thet boy hez airnt money er- 
helpin’ of the neighbors lots o’ times, ter waste on 
powder an’ shot. He’s a dretful bad boy.” 

“ From what you say, neighbor,” said the judge, 
with confidence, I should say that the proper place 
for the young rascal was the State reform school 


Oh, no, no, square,” exclaimed Arad, in sudden 
terror at the thought of losing Don’s services in this 
way. “ ’Tain’t as bad as that. I kin manage him, 
once give me legal ’thority. 

“Ye see, his pa left him ’ithout a cent, an’ I thought 
it didn’t make a bit er diff’rance ’bout his havin’ a 
guardeen — ’twould er been some expense, ye know, 
ter hev th’ papers made aout; but since he’s got this 
’ere wild goose notion o’ leavin’ me, I begin ter see 
that I sh’d hev some holt on him fur — hem 1 — fur 
his own good, as it were.” 

“ Quite right,” declared the judge confidently. 
“ And so the boy — this Brandon — proposes to go 
away at once, does he ? ” 


INTRODUCING “ SQUARE ” HOLT 6r 

So he has th’ audacity ter tell me,” responded old 
Arad. “ He declared he was goin’ termorrer morninL 
Ye know, square, Fm too broke up ’ith the rheumatiz 
ter tackle him as he’d orter be tackled. A good hidin' 
would be th’ best thing fur him, in rny ’pinion.” 

“ And in my opinion, too,” quoth the judge. 

Now, of course this matter will have to be done 
when the court meets next week, Mr. Tarr; but I’ll 
come up and see the youth tonight, and I think that 
between us we can make him see that this is the place 
for him to stay, and that there is to be no running 
away from it,” and the judge shut his thin lips to- 
gether very grimly. 

“ That’s it, square ; thank ’ee,” said the old man, 
shambling out of the house. “ Dretful weather we 
been havin’, ain’t it?” 

Then he climbed into his wagon and drove back 
toward home, chuckling as he went. 

“ I reckon I’ve put a spoke in his wheel,” he mut- 
tered, referring to his nephew. 

As he pursued his homeward way, however, 
thoughts of the sailor with whom he had so recently 
conversed, and of that conversation itself, filled his 
mind. 

“ I don’t persume thet ther’s anythin’ in it,” he mut- 
tered, thoughtfully stroking the wisp of beard on his 
pointed chin. “ Horace Tarr never had no luck no- 
how, an’ I don’t see how he’d come ter know any- 
thin’ erbout this ’ere treasure. P’raps that sailor was 
jest a yarnin’ ter me.” 

Still, the old man could not drive the thought out of 
his mind. 


62 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


'' Fabulously rich ! ” he repeated. That’s what he 
heard Horace say. This ’ere mate of the Silver Swan 
was a chum er Horace’s, like ’nough, an’ I s’pose if 
ther’ is anythin’ in it, he’ll jes’ try ter git it himself. 
An’ then — er — Brandon’ll never see a cent of it. 

“ It really is my duty ter look aout fur th’ boy’s 
int’rest,” continued the old hypocrite. “ ’F I’m goin’’ 
ter be his guardeen. I’d orter know what’s goin’ on; 
an’ this may mean money fur — fur Brandon.” 

He wiped his wrinkled brow with a soiled handker- 
chief, the reins lying idly on his knee the while. 
Somehow, despite the chilliness of the day, the perspi- 
ration stood in great drops upon his forehead. 

S’posin’,” he thought, “ ther’ should be a letter 
at Sam Himes’ fur him now, f’om that "Wetherbee 
feller? ’Twouldn’t no way do fur a boy ter git let- 
ters that his guardeen didn’t know nothin’ erbout, an' 
ther’ ain’t no doubt thet, if Brandon got it, he wouldn’t 
show it ter me. I — I b’lieve Til drive ’round thet 
way an’ see.” 

He touched up the mare again and, upon reaching 
the forks of the road, turned to the north once more 
and drove along the ridge until he reached a little 
gambrel roofed cottage on the westerly side of the 
highway. 

This was the post office where Sam Himes held 
forth, and to which the lumbering old stage brought 
one mail each day. 

Here he dismounted from the wagon again, and 
went into the house, being greeted at the door by the 
customary “ Haow air ye ? ” of the postmaster. 


INTRODUCING SQUARE ” HOLT 


6s 


I was jes’ thinkin’ er sendin’ daown ter your 
Laouse, Arad,” declared the postmaster, who was no 
respecter of persons, and called everybody by his first 
name, being familiar with them from the nature of his 
calling. “ Here’s a letter fur yeou an’ one fur th’ boy 
— Don.” 

He thrust two missives into the old man’s hand, and 
Arad stumbled out to his wagon again, his fingers 
shaking with excitement. Glancing at the two en- 
velopes he recognized one at once, and clutched it 
avariciously. It was from a brokerage firm in New 
York, and contained his monthly dividend for certain 
investments which he had made. 

The other letter, however, he did not look at until 
he had turned his horse about and started her jogging 
along toward home again. Then he drew forth the 
envelope and studied it carefully. 

It was addressed in a big, scrawling hand to: 

Master Brandon Tarr, Chopmist, Rhode Island,’' 
yet, despite the plainness of the address, old Arad, 
after a hasty and half fearful glance around, broke the 
seal and drew forth the inclosed page. 

He looked first at the signature, and finding it to 
be “ Caleb Wetherbee,” he began to peruse the epistle, 
looking up from time to time to glance along the road, 
that nobody might catch him in the act of reading the 
letter intended only for his nephew’s eye. 

Uncle Arad’s sight was not so keen for written 
words as it once had been, but he managed to stumble 
through the document, which read as follows: 


454 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


New York Marine Hospital, 
April the .2d, 1892. 

Master Brandon Tarr. 

Sir: — As I am laid up in dry dock, as you might say, and 
can’t get up to see you right off as I promised your poor 
father, I am taking the first chance these swabs of doctors 
have given me, to write this. 

Me and another man was all that was saved off the raft, 
as you probably know now, for your father was hurt so bad 
that there wasn’t any chance for him. He died ten days after 
we left the brig, 

I want you should pack up your togs, leave that farm 
where no son of Captain Horace Tarr ought to dig all his 
life, and come down here to New York to see me. I shall 
be out of this hospital before long, and then we’ve got some 
work to do, like I promised your father before he died. 

Captain Tarr put some papers in my hands which is of 
great value, providing they can be used at once. It seems 
your uncle Anson died several months ago in Kimberley, 
South Africa, and while he was at Cape Town loading up 
the brig, a fellow come aboard and told your father about it, 
and brung these papers. 

Among the papers (though the fellow didn’t know it, so I 
understood from the few words poor Captain Tarr let drop) 
was a package of diamonds which he hid aboard the old brig, 
and was afraid to take* with him on the raft for fear of the 
sailors that was with us. These papers I’ve got he said 
would tell where the diamonds was hid. I ain’t opened them 
yet, so I don’t know. 

Now you may think this here is no use because the Silver 
Swan is wrecked; but I don’t believe she has gone to pieces 
yet; nor your father didn’t think she would right off. We 
would have done better by sticking to her, any way, I reckon. 
She was driv upright onto the reef, and I’ll bet she’s sticking 
there yet. 

If you come down here to once, and I can get onto my old 
timber leg again, we’ll charter a boat and go down there and 
£ee about it. If it is as your father said — and I believe it — 


INTRODUCING “ SQUARE ” HOLT 65 

there’s enough of them diamonds to make you another Van- 
derbilt or Jay Gould. 

Just you leave the land shark of an uncle that you’re stay- 
ing with, and trust yourself to 

Your true friend, 

Caleb Wetherbee, 
Mate of the Silver Swan. 


CHAPTER VIII 


SOMETHING ABOUT LEAVING THE FARM 

Certainly Uncle Arad Tarr had never been so 
filled with astonishment in his life as he was upon 
reading the letter of the mate of the Silver Swan to 
the captain’s son. 

Diamonds enough to make Brandon a second Van- 
derbilt! The thought almost made Arad’s old heart 
stand still. 

Who’d er-thought it — who’d ever er-thought 
it ? ” he muttered weakly, folding the letter once more, 
and thrusting it into the pocket of his patched coat. 

Then he picked up the reins and drove on, shaking 
liis head slowly. 

Diamonds enough ter make him rich ! ” he mur- 
mured, with an avaricious contortion of his face. 

Jest ter think o’ Anson Tarr ever gittin’ more’n his 
bread and butter. It don’t seem ter me he c’d ha’ got 
’em honest.” 

He was very ready now, considering the guilty 
thoughts there were in his own heart, to declare the 
fortune gained by his nephew Anson to be dishonestly 
obtained. 

‘‘It jest stands ter reason,” he went on, “that this 
’ere Caleb Wetherbee isn’t er — er trustworthy person 
to hev charge o’ Brandon — ^or them di’monds either. 

66 


SOMETHING ABOUT LEAVING THE FARM 67 


I mus’ hev them papers made out jes’ as soon as th' 
square kin do it, an’ then I kin find that ’ere wreck — 
er hev it found — m’self.” 

His mind at once reverted to Jim Leroyd, the sailor 
with whom he had entered into a compact to “ divide 
the spoils,” and he shook his head again doubtfully. 

“ He ain’t jes’ th’ man I’d er chosen ter do th’ work 
fur me,” muttered the old sinner ; “ but then, he’s the 
old sailor I know, an’ it’s got ter take a sailor, I 
s’pose, ter go ter them furrin parts. 

“ He knows suthin’ erbout it already, too, an’ it 
wouldn’t do ter let him git mad an’ go an’ tell this 
’ere Wetherbee; then mebbe I couldn’t git th’ papers 
from him. But th’ fust thing is ter hev thet ’p’int- 
ment as guardeen fixed up.” 

Brandon was in the yard when he arrived, and 
good naturedly put up the horse for him. 

“ I’ve seen Mrs. Hemingway, uncle,” he said cheer- 
fully, “ and she’ll be up here tomorrow morning. I 
shall take the stage to town in the morning, and go to 
New York on the evening train, I guess.” 

“Ye will, eh?” returned Uncle Arad, showing his 
teeth. 

“ Yes. Now you mustn’t get uppish, uncle. You 
didn’t suppose I would stay here very long any way, 
did you ? ” 

“ I s’pect ye’ll stay here a spell,” replied the old 
man, with a cunning leer. “ I ain’t fed an’ su’ported 
ye in lux’ry fur nigh four year fur nothin’. Ye’ll 
stay here as my ward fur yer minor’ty, now I tell ye.” 

But Brandon was laughing over the thought of 


68 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Uncle Arad’s ‘‘ luxury,” and did not hear the last of 
his speech. 

He did the most of the chores about the house and 
barn, as was usual, and helped prepare the extremely 
frugal meal which Uncle Arad’s larder afforded. 

“ By George ! ” he thought, as he set about this lat- 
ter task, if I was in the forecastle of some old 
' hooker ’ I shouldn’t have worse fare than , this. I 
declare I’ll go off tomorrow before breakfast. This 
will be my last meal at Uncle Arad’s table for one 
spell at least.” 

But he said nothing further about going away, 
knowing that it would only anger the old man. Be- 
fore the dishes were cleared away after the meal, there 
was the sound of wheels at the gate, and in a moment 
somebody knocked sharply. 

Old Arad himself arose and hobbled to the door, 
admitting “ Square ” Holt into the miserable den of 
a kitchen. If it had been the President himself, the 
old man would not have opened the “ best room.” 

“ Go aout an’ take the square’s boss ’roun’ ter the 
shed,” harshly commanded Uncle Arad, and Brandon 
did as he was bidden, vaguely suspecting that some- 
thing was brewing. 

When he came into the kitchen again after doing 
the errand, the parrot beaked judge was ready for him. 

‘‘ Young man,” began the judge severely, “ your 
uncle, Mr. Tarr, who has done so much for you for 
the past four years, tells me that you have made a 
sorry return for all his kindness and bounty.” 

‘‘In what?” demanded Brandon rather sharply, for 


SOMETHING ABOUT LEAVING THE FARM 6g 


he considered this interference on the justice’s part 
as wholly uncalled for. 

“ Is that the way you speak to your elders, young' 
man?” cried the judge, aghast. ''Have you no re- 
spect for gray hairs ? ” 

" I do not see why I should respect you, Mr. Holt,” 
replied Don, with some temper. " You’ve never given 
me cause to and I consider that your questions and 
remarks are entirely unwarranted. I propose to go 
away from my uncle’s house (to whom, by the way, 
my father paid three dollars per week board for me 
up to last fall, and for whom I have done the work 
of a regularly hired hand during most of the time I 
have been here) I propose to go away, I say, and 
nothing you or uncle can say will stop me ! ” 

“ Hoighty toighty, young man!” cried the judge; 
" do you realize to whom you are speaking ? ” 

"Yes, I do,” responded Brandon hotly. "To one 
who is known, far and wide, as the meanest man in 
Scituate ! ” 

The judge’s ample nasal organ flushed to the color 
of a well grown beet; but before he could reply old 
Arad put in his oar : 

"What d’ye mean, ye little upstart?” (Fancy his 
calling Brandon little, who already stood a good three 
inches taller than himself!) " What d’ye mean, sayin’ 
that I was ever paid fur yer keep? Ye’ve been nuthin’ 
but an expense an’ trouble ter me ever since ye come 
here.” 

" That’s an untruth, and a^ou know it,” declared 
Don, who had quite lost his temper by this time, and 
did not behave himself in just the manner I should 


70 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


have preferred my hero to behave; but Brandon Tarr 
was a very human boy, and, I have found, heroes are 
much like other folks and not by any means perfect. 

“Young man, mark my words!” sputtered 
“ Square ” Holt, “ you will yet come to some bad 
end.” 

“ ril git all this aout o’ ye, afore I’m done with ye, 
Brandon Tarr,” declared Uncle Arad, “ if I hev ter 
hire somebody ter lick ye.” 

“You wouldn’t do that — you’re too stingy to hire 
anybody to ‘ lick ’ me,” responded Don tartly. “ Now 
I don’t propose to listen to any more of this foolish- 
ness. I’m going away, and I’m going away tomor- 
row morning. I’ve eaten my last meal at this house. 
Uncle Arad ! ” 

“ Is that the way to speak to your guardian? ” said 
the judge, with horror in his tone. “ Mr. Tarr, you 
are too lenient with this young scoundrel. He should 
be sent to the State reform school as I suggested.” 

“ But then I wouldn’t get no work aout o’ him,” 
the farmer hastened to say. “I — I’ve got ter git the 
money back I’ve spent on him, ye know.” 

Brandon laughed scornfully. 

“ I should like to know by what right you call him 
my guardian, Mr. Holt?” he asked. 

“ Wal, I’m goin’ ter be yer guardeen — right off,” 
Arad hastened to inform him, before the “ square ” 
could reply. “ The square ’s goin’ ter make the pa- 
pers aout ter oncet.” 

“ They’ll be funny looking documents, I reckon,” 
said Don, in disgust. “ I understand that Mr. Holt 


SOMETHING ABOUT LEAVING THE FARM 71 


has done several pretty crooked things since he’s been 
in office, but this is going a little too far.” 

“Young man!” cried the judge, trying to wither 
the audacious youth with a glance. 

But Don didn’t “ wither ” at all. 

“If you know anything at all about law,” he said 
to the judge, with sarcasm, “ you know that a guard- 
ian can’t be appointed in an hour. Legal notice 
must be given and reason shown w/iy a guardian 
should be appointed. I’ve no property, and Uncle 
Arad only wants to control me so as to have my work. 
And, besides all that, I am old enough to choose my 
own guardian, and you can bet your last cent that I 
shouldn’t choose Arad Tarr.” 

“ It ain’t so 1 ’tain’t no sich thing, is it, square ? ” 
cried old Arad, in alarm. “ Ain’t I th’ proper person 
to be ’p’inted over my own nevvy? Ther’ ain’t no- 
body else got anythin’ ter do with it.” 

“ He can tell you what he likes,” responded Bran- 
don quickly ; “ but I’ve given you the facts. Nudw 
I’ ve heard enough of this, and I’m going to bed.” 
Then he added, turning to Holt : “ When you go out 

to fleece a lamb next time, Mr. Holt, be pretty sure 
that the lamb is just as innocent as you think it.” 

He turned away without another word then and 
left the kitchen, mounting to his bedroom in the sec- 
ond story of the old house, leaving the baffled con- 
spirators in a state of wrathful bewilderment. 


f 


CHAPTER IX 


ANOTHER LETTER FROM NEW YORK 

‘'Mr. Tarr,” declared the judge, when Brandon 
had, for the moment, so successfully routed them and 
retired, “ you are doing a very wrong thing in shield- 
ing that young reprobate from the reform school. 
That's where he belongs. Send him there, sir, send 
him there ! ” 

“ I never thought he’d ha’ shown disrespect fur the 
law,” gasped Uncle Arad weakly. 

“Disrespect!” cried the judge, “I never was so 
insulted in all my life. That boy will be hung yet, 
you mark my words I ” 

“ I never thought it of Brandon,” said the farmer, 
shaking his head. 

He seemed quite overcome to think that his nephew 
had dared defy the law, or its representative. To 
Uncle Arad the law was a very sacred thing; he al- 
ways aimed to keep within its pale in his transactions. 

“ You’ll never be able to do anything with that boy 
here,” declared “Square” Holt. “A strait jacket is 
the only thing for him.” 

“ But if he goes there what’ll be the use o’ my bein’ 
his guardeen ? ” queried Arad. 

Then he hesitated an instant as a new phase of the 
situation came to him. 


72 


ANOTHER LETTER FROM NEW YORK 


73 


If Brandon was under lock an’ key — jes’ where 
I c’d put my han’ on him when I wanted him — I c’d 
go right erbout this ’ere treasure business, an’ git it 
fur — fur him,'' he thought, yet shivering in his soul 
at the thought of the wrong he was planning to do his 
nephew. 

“I — I dunno but ye’re right, square,” he said 
quaveringly. I — I don’ wanter see th’ boy go right 
ter perdition, ’fore my very eyes, as ye might say, 
an’ if ye think the reformin’ influences o’ the institu- 
tion is what he needs ” 

“ The best thing in the world for him,” declared the 
judge, drawing on his driving gloves. “ The only 
thing, I might say, that will keep him out of jail — 
where he belongs, the young villain ! ” 

“ But — but haow kin it be fixed up ? ” asked Arad, 
in some doubt. 

“ You leave that to me,” said the judge pompously. 
“ ril show that young reprobate that he has defied the 
wrong man when he defies me. I’ll give him all the 
law he wants — more, perhaps, than he bargained 
for.” 

“ But s’pose he tries to run away in th’ mornin’, as 
he threatened? ” 

“ All you’ve got to do, Mr. Tarr,” said the judge, 
shaking one long finger at the farmer, is to keep a 
close watch on that young man. Don’t give him a 
chance to run away. Lock him into his room tonight 
and keep him there till we can — er, hem ! — straighten 
this out. I think it will be a very easy matter to place 
the case before the court in such manner that the 


74 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


necessity for immediate action will be at once ad- 
mitted. 

“ Why,” declared the judge, warming up to his 
subject, “ I wonder, sir, how you — an old man ” (Un- 
cle Arad winced at that) , “ and in feeble health — 
have been able to remain here alone with that young 
scoundrel all this winter. I wonder that he has not 
laid violent hands on you.” 

“ Wal, he has been some abusive, square, but I 
wouldn’t say nothin’ erbout that,” said Uncle Arad 
hesitatingly. 

“ Don’t compound villainy by shielding it,” re- 
sponded the judge, with righteous indignation. 
“ This matter has already gone too far. When our 
quiet town is to be aroused and made a scene of riot, 
such as has been enacted — er — here tonight, sir, it 
is time something was done. Such young hoodlums 
as this Brandon Tarr should be shut up where they 
will do no harm to either their friends or neighbors. 

“ If I had my way,” added the judge viciously. 

I’d shut up every boy in town in the reform school ! ” 

Then he marched out to his carriage, and Uncle 
Arad, after locking the door, sat down to think the 
matter over. 

If he was successful in his nefarious plan of shut- 
ting Brandon up in the reformatory institution of the 
State, the getting of the diamonds, which Captain 
Tarr had hidden aboard the Silver Swan, would be all 
plain sailing. 

Of course he would have to lose Brandon’s work 
on the farm; but he had seen, by the boy’s open de- 
fiance of “ Square ” Holt, that he cared nothing for 


ANOTHER LETTER FROM NEW YORK 


75 


the law or its minion — and Uncle Arad dared not al- 
low his nephew out of his sight for fear he would run 
away. 

To his mind there was very little doubt that the at- 
tempt to shut Brandon up would be successful. Judge 
Holt was a most powerful man (politically) in the 
town, and he would leave no stone unturned to punish 
the youth who had so fearlessly defied him. 

Judge Holt, although disliked by many of his 
townsmen who realized that some of his methods and 
actions were illegal, still swayed the town on election 
days, and carried things with a high hand the re- 
mainder of the year. Old Arad chuckled to think how 
easily Brandon’s case would be settled by the doughty 

square.” 

Then, remembering the suggestion the judge had 
made just before his departure, he rose hastily from 
his chair and quietly ascended to the floor above. 
Here Brandon and himself slept in two small bed- 
rooms on opposite sides of the hall. 

The doors were directly opposite each other, and, 
although such things as locks were unknown in the 
house on any except the outside doors, the old man 
quickly lit upon a scheme that he thought remarkably 
clever. 

He obtained a piece of stout clothes line and fas- 
tened it back and forth from handle to handle of the 
two bedroom doors, which, opening into their respec- 
tive rooms, were now arranged so that the occupants 
of neither apartment could open the portals. 

Then, chuckling softly over his sharp trick, the old 
farmer crept down the stairs once more to the kitchen* 


76 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


feeling moderately sure of finding Brandon in his 
room in the morning. 

But one narrow window, looking out upon the 
barnyard, was in his nephew’s apartment, and as the 
sash had long since been nailed in, and the shutters 
closed on the outside, Uncle Arad felt secure on this 
score. 

“ I’ll starve him inter submission, ef I can’t do it 
no other way,” he muttered angrily. 

Seating himself once more in his old armchair, he 
drew forth the two letters obtained that day at the post 
office, adjusted his steel bowed spectacles which, in 
a moment of extravagance, he had purchased of a 
traveling peddler, and opened the epistle from his 
brokers which, heretofore, he had not read. 

He slit the envelope carefully with the blade of his 
jack knife. More than one man had torn or otherwise 
mutilated a check by opening an envelope too care- 
lessly. 

But instead of the printed form and generous draft 
which was the usual monthly inclosure of the firm, 
all the envelope contained was a typewritten letter, 
which the old farmer read with something like horror : 

Office of 

Bensell, Ben sell & Marsden, 

513 Wall St, New York, 

April 2, 1892. 

Mr. Arad Tarr, 

Chopmist, Rhode Island. 

Dear Sir: 

We beg to announce that owing to several accidents, caus- 
ing a large loss of rolling stock of the road, the B. P. & Q. 


ANOTHER LETTER FROM NEW YORK 77 


has dropped several points on the market and has passed its 
monthly dividend. 

We would suggest that you hold on to your stock, how- 
ever, as this is a matter which will quickly adjust itself. 

Yours sincerely, 

Ben SELL, Bensell & Marsden. 

The letter fluttered to the floor from Uncle Arad’s 
nerveless fingers. To lose money was like losing his 
very life, and this was no inconsiderable sum that had 
gone. He had invested a large amount in B. P. & Q. 
stock, and up to the present time it had paid large in- 
terest. 

“ Them brokers air thieves ! I know they be,” 
cried the old man, breaking forth into vituperations 
against the innocent firm of Bensell, Bensell & Mars- 
den. Ye can’t trust ’em — not an inch ! I don’t 
b’lieve none o’ their lyin’ stories erbout the railroad’s 
passin’ its div’dend. I — I’ll go ter New York m’self, 
I declare I will ! ” 

He got up and paced the floor wrathfully. 

Jes’ as soon as I git this matter o’ Brandon’s set- 
tled, an’ git th’ farm work started with Jim Hemin’- 
way fur foreman, I’ll go. I ain’t ergoin’ ter be 
cheated bare faced like this ’ere.” 

Then he thought a moment, and pulling Caleb 
Wetherbee’s letter from its envelope again, read it 
once more carefully. 

I — I might look inter this w’ile I was there too,” 
he muttered slowly. “ I reckon I kin fin’ thet feller 
I saw terday — Leroyd, his name was, an’ his address 
was New England Hotel, Water Street. I shan’t fur- 
git thet right off.” 


78 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


He shook his head slowly, thrust both letters into 
his pocket, and then shambled off to bed in the room 
off the kitchen as, having locked his nephew in, he 
had also locked himself out of his usual bed chamber. 


CHAPTER X 

Brandon’s arrival at the metropolis 

Long habit had made Uncle Arad Tarr an ex.- 
tremely early riser, and it had been his custom to 
arouse Brandon as early as half past three or four 
during the summer months, and never later than five- 
thirty in winter. On the morning after he had fas- 
tened the door of his nephew’s room, however, the 
old man did not seek to disturb the boy, but rising 
himself before five he went about the customary duties 
of the house and barn. 

In this work he missed Brandon sadly; but having 
made up his mind that the boy was bound to leave 
him any way, old Arad was determined that he 
should go to the reform school, and therefore he 
would have to learn to do without his valuable serv- 
ices. 

To his unsophisticated mind, it seemed a very sim- 
ple matter indeed for a powerful local politician like 
‘‘ Square ” Holt to send his nephew to the State re- 
formatory institution, “ and no questions asked.” 

But under our present system of humane laws, and 
with our enlightened legal executives, an undeserved 
incarceration in prison or reform school is seldom 
known — outside of story books. Judge Holt was a 
large man in his own community (and in his own esti- 
79 


8o 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


mation) but he had never been beyond that com- 
munity far enough to learn how very small a man he 
really was. 

After the arduous labor of feeding the stock and 
poultry, drawing water and bringing in wood, old 
Arad hardly felt equal to either the task of preparing 
breakfast, or eating the same; but he did at last sit 
down to what he termed “ a cold snack ’’ about seven 
o’clock. 

“ That ’ere boy sleeps like a pig,” he muttered, 
with a groan, twisting about in his chair to get an 
easy position for his rheumatic limbs. I wonder 
he hain’t begun er-kickin’ on th’ door, er suthin’, yit.” 

At that moment there was a noise behind him, and 
turning about he beheld the subject of his thoughts 
standing in the doorway leading to the floor above. 

Uncle Arad gave a shout expressing surprise and 
anger, and sprang to his feet. Brandon had been sur- 
veying him coolly, with a smile on his face, and now he 
laughed outright. 

“ Good morning, uncle,” he said. 

He was fully dressed in his best suit, hat, overcoat 
and all, and carried a traveling bag in his hand. 

‘'How — how did ye git aout?” sputtered Uncle 
Arad, in wonder. 

“ How did I get out? ” 

“Yes — haow did ye git aouto’ yer room?” cried 
the old man. 

“ I wasn’t in, therefore I didn’t have to get out,” re- 
sponded Brandon calmly. 

“Ye warn’t in?” repeated his bewildered relative. 

“ That’s what I said. I wasn’t in. When you 


BRANDON’S ARRIVAL AT THE METROPOLIS. 8i 


crawled up stairs last night and took all that trouble 
with the clothes line, I wasn’t in my room at all. I 
expected some such delicate attention as that on your 
part, uncle, so I took the trouble to remove my things 
to the spare room at the other end of the hall, and 
slept there.” 

The farmer fairly gnashed his teeth in rage. 

Where be yeou goin’ ? ” he demanded, planting 
himself between his nephew and the door. 

“ Why, uncle, I thought you knew that,” said Bran- 
don, raising his eyebrows in apparent surprise. “ I 
told you last night that I was going to New York. 
I haven’t changed my mind since then, though I’ve 
modified my plans somewhat. It’s such a pleasant 
morning, I believe I’ll walk down to Rockland, take 
the stage from there to Hope, and go to town on the 
train.” 

“ Yeou will, hey? Wal, I guess not! ” 

Old Arad backed up against the door as though to 
guard that way of escape. His lean form was trem- 
bling with excitement, and he was really in a pitiable 
state for so old a man. 

“ Think not, eh ? ” said Brandon coolly. 

He came into the kitchen and deposited his travel- 
ing bag on a chair, and then stepped across the room 
and took his rifle down from the two hooks upon 
which it rested. 

Old Arad uttered a shout of alarm and darted away 
from the door to the opposite side of the table. 

“ Goodness me ! would you shoot me ? ” he gasped, 
fairly white to his lips. 

Don’t be a fool, uncle,” responded Brandon with 


82 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 
asperity, opening the hall door again and bringing in 
a gun case which had been standing in the corner of 
the other apartment. “ The rifle isn’t loaded, and, 
besides, what do you suppose I’d want to shoot you 
for?” 

Oh, you young villain, you ! ” groaned old Arad, 
paying for his agile movements of the moment before 
by several rheumatic twinges. 

“ Thanks ! Well, uncle, I guess I’ll be otf. I don’t 
suppose you’ll shake hands with a fellow ? ” and Bran- 
don stopped, with his hand on the door latch. 

“ I’ll have ye a’rested afore ye git ter Rockland ! 
the old man shouted, shaking his clenched fist at him. 

You’d better not try it,” the boy declared, with 
flashing eyes. 

Arad followed him outside, sputtering. 

“Ye’ll live ter rue this day, ye young villain!” he 
cried. “ I’ll show ye no mercy.” 

“ All right ; it’s all the same to me,” Brandon re- 
turned, and whistling cheerfully, he went out of the 
gate and started down the road with his burden of 
traveling bag and gun case. 

It was a beautiful morning, despite the rain of the 
day before. True, there were puddles of muddy wa- 
ter standing in the road and patches of dirty snow in 
the fence corners and under the hedges. But these 
drawbacks did not serve to cloud either the clear azure 
sky or Brandon’s bright hopes. 

Looking back at the old farm house once, before 
turning the bend in the road, he had a glimpse of old 
Arad driving furiously out of the yard. 

“ He is going to see his familiar spirit. Holt,” mut- 


BRANDON’S ARRIVAL AT THE METROPOLIS. 83 


tered Don, with a smile, “ and lots of good may it 
do him. ril be in town before they catch me, and 
Judge Ebenezer Holt isn’t anywhere near as big a 
man in town as he is here. I’ll risk all the harm they 
can do me now.” 

He arrived at Rockland in time for the stage to 
Hope, and at the latter village took the train for Provi- 
dence. Neither his uncle nor Holt had appeared, and 
he made up his mind that he was well rid of them. 

Once aboard the cars he settled himself back in 
his seat, and drew forth the scrap of newspaper which 
had dropped from the' old sailor’s note case the day 
before. He read it through again carefully. 

“ I’ve got nearly fifty dollars (wouldn’t uncle be 
crazy if he knew it?) and although that isn’t a for- 
tune, still it ought to keep me for some time,” he 
thought. “ But, the question is, after I pump all I 
can out of that Wetherbee, what had I better do?” 

He mused a moment in silence, and then took up the 
connected train of his reflections again. 

“ Fifty dollars ought to last me quite a spell — and 
take me quite a way, too. Of course, I can’t hire a 
boat in New York to go in search of the Silver Swan 
with it; but I can watch the Hydrographic Office re- 
ports, and find out in what general direction the brig’s 
headed. Then I’ll get as near to her as possible and 
see — what I shall see! 

“I’d give a cent” (probably he would have given 
a good deal more) “ if this Wetherbee was a dif- 
ferent sort of a man. It’s a mystery to me how father 
ever trusted the fellow. I always supposed that 


84 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

father had a keen insight into human nature; but a 
man will be deceived at times, I suppose. 

But I won’t let this treasure idea keep me from 
going to work, and working hard, too. If I don’t 
get the money, why I don’t want to be roaming about 
the world like Uncle Anson, with nothing to do in 
life but hunt for wealth. I believe I’ll get a place 
on some vessel any way, for there’s a good deal of 
the sailor in me as there was in father. We get it 
from grandfather’s folks — the Brandons — I sup- 
pose.” 

He arrived at Providence before noon, and spent 
the time until evening in looking about the business 
portion, of the city, and especially about the wharves. 
Then late in the afternoon he took the cars for New 
York, arriving in the metropolis at such an hour that 
to go to a hotel near the station seemed necessary. 

Although a country boy by bringing up, Brandon 
was not easily disturbed by the magnitude of life in 
the great city. In fact, he rather enjoyed it, and 
after retiring to his room at the hotel, he went to sleep 
without one apprehensive thought of what the mor- 
row might bring forth. 



'‘GOODNESS AIe! WOULD YOU SHOOT ME?’' 
The Quest of the Silver Swan 



CHAPTER XI 


THE FIRM OF ADONIRAM PEPPER & CO. 

Leaving his bag and gun case at the hotel, Bran- 
don Tarr started out by nine o’clock on the following 
morning, his first aim being to find and interview the 
sailor who had already visited Chopmist for the pur- 
pose of seeing him. 

Caleb Wetherbee, New England Hotel, Water 
Street,” was the address, and after considerable in- 
quiry he found the street in question. 

It was, however, the Battery end of it and no one 
seemed to know anything about the New England 
Hotel. Still, Don was not dismayed and pursued his 
way, keeping his eyes open and himself alert among 
the many new sights and sounds of the metropolis. 

The locality grew worse as he pursued his way, but 
he was not to be frightened oil by gangs of street 
gamins, or crowds of half drunken men. Still, in 
these days, Water Street isn’t as bad as it was once — 
at least, not by daylight. 

As he wandered along he could see down the cross 
streets to the wharves and water beyond, where all 
sorts and conditions of seagoing craft were gathered 
from all parts of the world. He sniffed the sea breeze, 
too, which, to him, killed all the odor of the filth about 
him. 

That’s what I want to be — a sailor,” he muttered. 
85 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 




Just then something caught his eye and he stopped 
motionless on the sidewalk. 

On the opposite side of the street (the river side) 
as though crowded off Front Street by its more pre- 
tentious neighbors, was the office of a shipping firm. 
It was in a low brick building, dingy and dirty as were 
the structures about it, and a much battered sign over 
the door read: 

ADONIRAM PEPPER & CO., 
SHIPPING MERCHANTS. 

The name was what attracted Brandon’s attention 
first. He had heard his father speak of it and of the 
man who was “ Adoniram Pepper & Co.,” and from 
his description he had a desire to see this eccentric 
personage. 

Perhaps, also, Mr. Pepper would know the locality 
of the New England Hotel, and therefore Brandon 
crossed the street and entered the dingy little front 
office. 

On a high stool by a high desk just beside the win- 
dow, sat a man with a wonderful development of leg, 
a terrific shock of the reddest hair imaginable, and a 
shrewd, lean face, lit up by sharp, foxy eyes. His 
face was smoothly shaven and the yellow skin was 
•covered with innumerable wrinkles like cracks in the 
cheeks of a wax doll ; but whether this individual was 
twenty five, or fifty five, Brandon was unable to 
guess. 

The man (a clerk, presumably) looked up with a 
snarl at Brandon’s appearance. 

“ Well, what do you want? ” he demanded. 


ADONIRAM PEPPER & CO. 


87 


‘'Is the firm in?’’ asked Don, almost laughing in 
the other’s face, for the red haired clerk had a huge 
daub of ink on the bridge of his nose and another on 
his shirt front. 

“ Fm the firm just now,” declared the man, glow- 
ering at him as though he was a South Sea Islander 
with cannibalistic tendencies. 

“ Oh, you are, eh ? ” returned Brandon. “ Well, I 
want to see Mr. Pepper.” 

“ You do, eh ? ” The clerk eyed him with still 
greater disfavor. “You do, eh? Well you can’t see 
Mr. Pepper.” 

“Why not?” 

“ Well, for one reason he isn’t here — he ain’t down 
yet — he’s gone away — he’s dead!'' 

He slammed down his pen and jumped off the high 
stool. 

“ Git out o’ here you little rapscallion ! ” he roared, 
evidently expecting Brandon to be frightened by his 
vehemence. “We don’t allow no loafing ’round this 
office. Git, I say, or ” 

At that instant the street door behind the amused 
Brandon was opened, and with one glance at the 
new comer the clerk’s jaws shut together like a trap,, 
he turned about and bounded to his seat on the stool 
with great ability, and seizing his pen went to work on 
his books with monstrous energy. 

Brandon turned about also, surprised at these pro- 
ceedings, and found a short, pudgy looking little man 
standing in the doorway of the office, gazing at the 
clerk with a broad smile on his red face; but upon 
looking closer the boy discovered that, although the 


88 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


mouth was smiling, the gentleman’s eyes were very 
stern indeed behind the gold rimmed eye glasses. 

What is the meaning of this unseemly conduct, 
Weeks?” he asked in a tone of displeasure. 

“I — I was just showin’ this — this young friend of 
mine how — how a feller up to the Bow’ry acted 
t’other night/’ murmured the clerk, a sort of ghastly 
red color mounting into his withered face beneath the 
parchment-like skin. 

“The Bowery?” repeated the gentleman, severely, 
and Brandon decided that this was no other than Mr. 
Adoniram Pepper himself. 

“Yes, sir; Bowery Theater, you know,” responded 
the clerk glibly, with an imploring side glance at 
Brandon. “ ’Twas in the play, ' The Buccaneer’s 
Bride,’ you know.” 

“ No, I don't know,” replied Mr. Pepper, in dis- 
gust. “ So this is your friend, is it?” and he turned 
his gaze upon Brandon genially. 

“ Our friendship is of rather short duration,” said 
Don, smiling. 

“ So I presume,” returned Mr. Pepper. “ Did you 
wish to see me ? ” 

“ Just a moment, sir.” 

“ ril give you two moments if you like.” Then he 
turned again to the clerk and shook one fat finger at 
him. “ One of these days Pll discharge you. Weeks,” 
he said sternly. 

“ I expect so,” groaned the clerk. And then 
what’ll I do?” 

Mr. Pepper looked at him a moment silently. 

“ Then you’ll go and lie somewhere else, I suppose. 
You zmll lie, Alfred Weeks, and I suppose I might as 


ADONIRAM PEPPER & CO. 


89 


well keep you here and let you lie to me, as to turn 
you loose upon your fellow men. Well, well! Now, 
young man;” he turned with a sigh from the clerk 
and again looked at Brandon. 

“ I suppose you are Mr. Pepper ? ” began Brandon. 

“I — sup — pose — I — am,” replied the gentleman, 
with great care, scrutinizing the face of the captain’s 
son with marked interest. 

‘‘ Let’s see, what is your name?” he said; “or, no, 
you needn’t tell me. I know it already. Your name 
is Tarr, and you are Captain Horace Tarr’s son! ” 

“ Yes, sir, I am,” Brandon replied in surprise. 

“ I knew it, I knew it ! ” declared Mr. Pepper, shak- 
ing both the boy’s hands so violently that the eye 
glasses, which had a hard enough time generally in 
staying on the little man’s nose, tumbled off, and were 
only caught and saved from destruction by great 
agility on Mr. Pepper’s part. 

“ My dear boy ! Pd have known you if Pd met 
you in Timbuctoo ! ” he declared. “ Come into my of- 
fice and tell me all about yourself. I’ve been thinking 
about you ever since — er — your poor father’s death. 
I’ve got something to tell you, too.” 

He led Brandon toward the inner door, marked 
“ Private,” and opening it, disclosed a comfortably 
furnished room with a fire in the grate, and a general 
air of cheerfulness about it. 

“ Come right in,” he repeated, and then shut the 
door behind his visitor. 

But no sooner was the door closed than the acro- 
batic clerk was off his stool, and had his ear fitted to 
the keyhole with a celerity which denoted much prac- 
tice in the art of eavesdropping. 


CHAPTER XII 


IN WHICH BRANDON VENTURES INTO RATHER DIS- 
REPUTABLE SOCIETY 

My dear boy, sit down ! ” exclaimed Mr. Pepper, 
motioning Brandon to a chair. Sit down and let 
me look at you.” 

He himself took a chair at a desk by the windov^ 
and studied the boy intently for several moments. 
Meanwhile Brandon was making a mental examina- 
tion of the shipping merchant as well. 

Adoniram Pepper was a little, rotund man with a 
good deal of color in his face and very little hair on 
his head. His mouth was always smiling, but at 
times, as Brandon had already seen, the gray eyes 
could be very stern indeed behind the gold rimmed 
glasses, which latter had such hard work remaining 
upon Mr. Pepper’s squat nose. 

“ Yes, sir, you are the perfect picture of your 
father,” declared the shipping merchant at last. “ I 
thought when I read of his death that we should never 
see his like again; but you have the promise of all 
his outward characteristics, at least. I hope you’ve 
his inner ones, too.” 

“ I hope so,” replied Brandon, pleased indeed at 
such praise of his father. 

90 


RATHER DISREPUTABLE SOCIETY 


91 


He was a good man/’ continued Mr. Pepper rumi- 
natively. “ By the way, what’s your name ? ” 

“ Brandon, sir.” 

“ Oh yes, I remember now. Your father talked to^ 
me of you. He wanted you to follow the sea, too, and 
I suppose that is what you’ve come down here to New 
York for, eh? ” 

‘‘ Yes, I hope to go to sea,” responded Brandon: 
slowly. 

Had he not remembered his experience with Caleb 
Wetherbee, without doubt Brandon would have opened 
his heart to the eccentric merchant and told him all ; 
but bearing in mind the (to him) evident treachery of 
the mate of the Silver Swan, he was not ready to take 
into his confidence every friend of his father who hap- 
pened to turn up. 

‘‘ I thought so, I thought so ! ” exclaimed Mr. Pep- 
per, rubbing his fat hands softly together. “ The sea, 
by all means, my boy. That’s where I’ve obtained my 
living — and something beside — for many years,, 
though in a little different way from your father. 
Captain Tarr commanded one of my vessels before he 
purchased the Silver Swan.” 

Yes, so he has told me,” responded Brandon. 

“It was a sad thing — his loss at sea,” said Mr., 
Pepper. 

He still smiled, but there was moisture on his eye 
glasses, and he removed and wiped them gently on a 
silk handkerchief. 

“ And he left you hardly a penny’s worth ? ” he 
continued interrogatively 


92 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


I have only about fifty dollars,” Brandon replied 
briefly. 

“ Only fifty dollars,” repeated the shipping merchant 
softly. “ Not much — more than I had, though, when 
I went out to seek my fortune; but I had friends — 
powerful friends — and so have you, Brandon.” 

“ Not many of them, I fancy,” Don returned, smil- 
ing. 

Not many, perhaps ; but some” the other declared 
with confidence, “ and one of them is Adoniram Pep- 
per.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Pepper,” said Don. “ I hope I 
shall be worthy of your kindness.” 

‘‘No doubt of that — no doubt of that,” rejoined 
the merchant, beaming upon him benignantly. “ But 
to talk isn’t enough for Adoniram Pepper; I want to 
do something for you, my boy.” 

“I — I don’t know just what you can do for me, 
sir,” said Brandon doubtfully. 

“ Don’t know ? Why, you want to go to sea, don’t 
you?” 

“Yes, sir; I think I do.” 

“ Then I can help you,” declared the merchant. 
“ I’ve several vessels — three are in port at the pres- 
ent time — and it will be strange indeed if I can’t find 
a berth on one of them for you.” 

“ But I’m no sailor yet; I’ve got to learn,” objected 
Don. 

“ So I suppose ; but I’ll risk your learning fast 
enough. Now, where would you like to go, and what 
position shall I give you ? ” and Mr. Pepper settled 
himself deeper into his chair, and looked as though 


RATHER DISREPUTABLE SOCIETY 


93 


he was prepared to offer Don any position he craved, 
from cook’s assistant to captain. 

Brandon felt just a little bewildered by all this, and 
probably showed his bewilderment on his face. 

“ I’ll tell you what I have now,” went on Mr. Pep- 
per. “ There’s the brig Calypso, loading for Port 
Said — she sails tomorrow; and the clipper ship 
Frances Pepper (my sister’s name, you know) un- 
loading from Rio, and bound back there and to Argen- 
tine ports in a fortnight; and then there’s the whale- 
back, Number Three.” 

The whaleback ? ” queried Brandon in perplexity. 

Yes, sir, whaleback ; a whaleback steamer, you 
know. Didn’t you ever see one ? ” 

Brandon shook his head. 

“ Well, you’ll have a chance to,” declared Mr. Pep- 
per. These whalebacks are something new. Lots 
o’ folks don’t believe in ’em ; but I do. I bought the 
third one the company ever built, and it lies at one of 
my wharves now, being fitted up.” 

‘‘But where will that go?” Brandon inquired with 
interest. 

Mr. Pepper rubbed his bald pate reflectively. 

“ Well,” he said, “ that I don’t know yet. I haven’t 
decided. I’ve got a scheme, but whether ’twill work 
or not, I can’t say. I must find a man to command her 
first. I don’t suppose you'd feel like doing that, would 
you? ” and the ship owner laughed jollily. 

“ I’m afraid not ; perhaps, though, there’d be some 
other place on her I could fill with satisfaction to 
you.” 

“ Perhaps so. If I put her in the passenger trade, 


94 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


how would you like to be purser — assistant purser, of 
course, till you learn the duties ? ” 

“ I think I should like it,” replied Brandon, with 
some hesitation, however; “provided, of course, that 
I could take it at all.” 

“Eh? Not take it? Why not?” demanded Mr. 
Pepper. 

“ Well, first I want to see my father’s old mate — 
one of the men saved from the raft, you know about 

— well, about a matter concerning the wreck. Per- 
haps, then, if you can give me a berth. I’ll be able to 
accept it.” 

“ Going over to the hospital to see him, eh ? I know 
Caleb Wetherbee.” 

“ No, he’s out of the hospital now. He gave me 
his address — New England Hotel, on this very street 

— and hunting for the place is what brought me here.” 

“ Bless my soul ! ” cried the ship owner ; “ Caleb 

out of hospital? Why, I didn’t expect he’d be ’round 
for some time yet. The papers said he was pretty 
nearly done for when he gbt to New York. It went 
harder with him than it did with the other sailor — a 
good deal harder.” 

Brandon looked at him curiously. If Caleb Weth- 
erbee was a particular friend of Mr. Pepper, the cap- 
tain’s son began to feel some doubt as to the latter’s 
sincerity. 

“ Perhaps you can tell me where the New England 
Hotel is? ” he asked. 

“ Yes, it’s right along here on this side of the 
street ; several blocks away, perhaps. But,” he added, 
“ you don’t tell me that Caleb is there f Why, he 


RATHER DISREPUTABLE SOCIETY 


95 


must be ’way down on his luck. I must see about 
this.” 

Mr. Pepper wrinkled his brow nervously and Bran- 
don rose. 

“Where are you going?” 

“ Up to see this man — this mate of the Silver 
Swan.” 

“ Oh yes. Well, you tell him Pm coming up to 
see him myself, today. It’s a mystery to me why he 
should go to that place. I don’t understand it. How 
was he looking when you saw him — for I take it you 
have seen him ? ” 

“ How do you mean — sick or well ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Oh, he appeared in pretty fair health, I should 
say,” replied Brandon, beginning to think that there 
was something queer about it all. 

“ Well, I’ll see him myself,” declared the merchant, 
rising and giving the boy his hand. “ I tell you what 
we’ll do, Brandon. If you don’t get back here by 
noon. I’ll step up and get you, and we’ll go to lunch 
together; then afterward we’ll take a look at the 
whaleback, if you like.” 

Brandon thanked him and opened the door into 
the outer office, almost falling over Mr. Alfred Weeks, 
who had his head suspiciously near the keyhole. 

“ Lo — looking for my ruler that I dropped,” de- 
clared the red haired clerk, as his employer’s eyes 
rested sternly upon him. 

But as he passed out, Brandon noticed that the ruler 
was on the high desk holding open the leaves of a 
much tattered paper novel. 


96 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

“ Funny sort of fellow for a respectable ship owner 
to employ/’ Brandon decided, as he made his way 
along the crowded thoroughfare. “ In fact, I guess 
ril withhold my opinion of all three of these people 
till I know ’em better — Wetherbee, Pepper, and his 
clerk.” 

By closely scanning the signs on the buildings as he 
passed, the captain’s son finally discovered the place 
he sought. He came within an ace of not doing so, 
however, for the words “ New England Hotel ” were 
simply painted on a small strip of tin on one side of 
the doorway, the rest of the sign space being devoted 
to the words: John Brady, Wines, Liquors, and 
Cigars. 

Brandon hesitated a moment before entering the 
place. It was plainly a saloon of the worst type, the 
“ hotel ” part evidently being but a blind ” by means 
of which the bar could be kept open all night. 

Two or three disreputable men — sailors or long- 
shoremen by appearance — were hanging about the 
door, but Brandon Tarr had a good deal of confidence 
in his ability to take care of himself, and finally as- 
cended the steps. 

A sickening odor of stale tobacco smoke and bad 
liquor assailed his nostrils as he stepped within the 
room, and he was almost tempted to back out and give 
up his intention of seeing Wetherbee. But the man 
behind the bar — a villainous looking fellow with a 
closely cropped head and red face — had seen him and 
came briskly forward. 

“Well, young felley, what kin I do fur ye?” he 
asked, in what was intended as a pleasant tone. 


RATHER DISREPUTABLE SOCIETY 


97 


Deciding that he was in for it, the captain’s son 
walked forward to the bar and replied : 

Nothing to drink, thank you. I’m looking for a 
man who’s stopping here — Caleb Wetherbee.” 

The bartender eyed him curiously and repeated: 

“ Caleb Wetherbee, eh? Well, I’ll see ’f he’s here.” 

He stepped back to a door leading into an inner 
room and, opening it a crack, called to somebody in- 
side. There was a whispered conversation between 
the men, and the bull necked individual came back to 
the bar. 

“ All right, m’ duck ; he’s in dere,” he said, with a 
grin, and a motion of his thumb toward the inner door. 

Yer don’t have ter send in no kyard.” 

Taking this as a permission to enter, Brandon 
walked across the long saloon, littered with tables and 
chairs, and its door covered with sawdust, and opened 
the door. 

The apartment beyond was as badly furnished as 
the outer room, there being only a square deal table 
and several wooden bottomed chairs. In one of these 
chairs before the table, with his head bowed upon 
his arms, was the sailor whom Brandon had seen two 
days before in the woods on his uncle’s farm back in 
Chopmist, the only occupant of the place. 


CHAPTER XIII 


j 

J THE OLD SAILOR WITH THE WOODEN LEG 

It was only in the country — in the woods and 
sheltered fence corners — that the patches of snow 
still remained on this sixth day of April. In New 
York the sun shone warmly upon the sidewalks, 
washed clean by the shower of the night before, and 
the tiny patches of grass in the parks and squares 
were quite green again. 

About the middle of the forenoon a man stumped 
along a street leading to what remains of the Battery 
park — a man dressed in a half uniform of navy blue, 
and with a face (where the beard did not hide the 
cuticle) as brown as a berry. 

At first glance one would have pronounced this per- 
son to be a sailor, and have been correct in the sur- 
mise, too. 

The man’s frame was of huge mold, with massive 
development of chest and limbs, and a head like a 
lion’s. But his bronzed cheeks were somewhat hol- 
low, and his step halting, this latter not altogether 
owing to the fact that his right leg had been ampu- 
tated at the knee and the deficiency supplied by an old 
fashioned wooden leg. 

Still, despite his evident infirmity, the old seaman 
looked cheerfully out upon the world on this bright 
98 


THE OLD SAILOR 


99 


April morning, and pegged along the sidewalk and 
into the park with smiling good nature. 

Not a beggar had accosted him during his walk 
down town without having a nickel tossed to him, and 
it was with vast contentment that the wooden legged 
sailor at length seated himself upon a bench, from 
which vantage point he could overlook the bay and 
its multitudinous shipping. 

Ah ! ” he exclaimed, sniffing the air which blew 
in from the sea, like a hungry dog. “ This is life, 
this is! Thank heaven Fve got away from them 
swabs of doctors at last. Another week at that ere 
hospital would ha’ been the death o’ me. Still, I 
reckon they meant well ’nough.” 

He sat there for some time in cheerful silence, and 
drank in the exhilarating air, his pea cloth jacket 
thrown open to the breeze, baring the broad expanse 
of flannel shirt beneath. 

A few days o’ this’ll put me right on my feet,” he 
said, with delight, “ better’n all the tonics the old saw- 
bones ever invented. Lord! if I’d had this breeze 
a-blowin’ inter my winder up there to the hospital, I’d 
been out a fortnight ago. 

“ The old man ain’t dead yet. It was a pretty hard 
tug, I admit ; but here I be ! ” 

He slapped his leg with such vigor that a flock of 
sparrows flew up with sudden aflfright from the path ; 
but this energetic gesture was taken in another sense 
by the group of urchins which had gathered near by 
to talk and fight (much after the manner of their 
feathered prototypes, by the way) over the morning’s 
sale of papers. 


LOfC. 


100 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


At the old man’s motion half a dozen of these sharp 
eyed little rascals broke away from the group, and ran 
shrieking toward him, wildly waving their few remain- 
ing wares in his face. 

“’Ere you are, sir! Tribune, Sun, World!” 

"‘Tribune,” said the old sailor, laughing heartily as 
though he saw something extremely ludicrous in their 
mistake. 

“ My last ’un, sir. Thankee I ” 

The successful Arab pocketed his money and went 
back to his friends, while the sailor slowly unfolded 
the sheet and took up the thread of his reflections 
again. 

“ Once I get my sea legs on,” he thought, fumbling 
in his pocket for a pair of huge, steel bowed spectacles, 
which he carefully wiped and placed astride his nose 
' — “ once I get my sea legs on. I’ll take a trip up ter 
Rhode Island and see the cap’n’s boy, unless he turns 
up in answer to my letter. 

“ Poor lad ! he’s doubtless heart broken by Cap’n 
Horace’s death, and won’t feel much like goin’ into 
this ’ere treasure huntin’ business; but for his own 
good I’ll have ter rouse him up. It would be what the 
cap’n would wish, I know.” 

He let the paper lie idly on his knee a moment, and 
a mist rose in his eyes. 

“ Never mind if the old brig has gone to pieces be- 
fore we get there,” he muttered. “ I’ve got a little 
shot in the locker yet, an’ the boy sha’n’t come ter 
want. I’ll do my duty by him as though he was my 
own son, that I will I ” 

He picked up the paper again, and turned naturally 


THE OLD SAILOR 


lOI 


to the shipping news, which he ran over carelessly, 
smiling the while. Finally his eye was' attracted by 
something near the bottom of the column. 

Eh, what's this ? ” he exclaimed. What’s this 
about the Silver Swan ? ” 

With great excitement he read the following news 
item, following each line of the text with his stumpy 
forefinger : 

Captain Millington, of the English steamer Manitoba, which 
arrived here yesterday from Brazil, reports that he passed a 
very dangerous wreck in latitude 22 : 03, longitude 70 : 32. It 
was the hull of a brig, apparently in good condition, but with 
her masts snapped off close to the decks, and all her rigging 
carried away. The name on her stern was Silver Swan, 
Boston. 

This is the same derelict reported by the steamer Monte- 
video at Savannah several weeks ago. According to Captain 
Millington, the wreck of the brig is a great menace to all ves- 
sels plying between this and South American ports, as its 
course seems to be right across the great highway followed 
by most of the steamship lines. 

It will be remembered that the Silver Swan was wrecked 
over two months ago on Reef Eight, southwest of Cuba, 
grounding, according to the report of the survivors of her 
crew, upright on the rock. The captain of the Montevideo 
sighted her not far from the reef, from which she was doubt- 
less loosened by the westerly gale of February 13th; but since 
that time she has floated some distance to the north and east, 
and if she follows the same tactics as many of her sister 
derelicts, she may zigzag across the course of the South 
American steamers for months. 

The cruisers Kearsarge and Vesuvius are both lying in port 
at present, and it will be respectfully suggested to the Navy 
Department that one or both of those vessels be sent to de- 
stroy this and several others of the most dangerous derelicts 
now floating off our coast. 


102 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Shiver my timbers, sir ! ” 

With this forcible and exceedingly salty ejaculation, 
the old sailor with the wooden leg dropped the news- 
paper to the walk, and his spectacles along with it, and 
springing up, trampled upon them both. 

But in his great excitement he noticed neither the 
torn paper nor the ruined glasses. He stumped up 
and down the walk for several moments before he be- 
came calm enough to think coherently. 

In fact, the blue coated policeman on the corner had 
begun to eye him suspiciously. 

“ The Silver Swan afloat — a derelict ! ” he mut- 
tered. “ This ’ere is a sitiwation I didn’t look for. 
An’ then, them blasted cruisers are liable to go down 
there and blow her into kingdom come any minute. 
The Silver Swan on Reef Eight was bad enough, but 
the Silver Swan afloat, at the mercy of the gales as 
well as other vessels, is worse ! 

Now, what in creation’ll I do about it? I haven’t 
heard from the boy yet, and there’s little enough time 
as it is. Why, she might sink ’most any time with 
all them di’monds the cap’n told about aboard her ! 

“ I’ll take a steamer to get down there ahead of 
them confounded iron pots ” (by this disrespectful 
term did he designate Uncle Sam’s cruisers), “but 
who under the canopy’s got a steamer to charter? 

“ By the great horn spoon, I have it ! ” he ex- 
claimed, after a moment’s thought. “ Adoniram Pep- 
per is just the fellow.” 

With this declaration he jammed his hat on his 
head, and stumped off as rapidly as one good leg and 
one wooden one could carry him, toward the shipping 
merchant’s office on Water Street. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE OLD sailor's EXCITEMENT 

As the old sailor hurried along the street toward 
the ship owner’s office he became calmer, and, being 
a person who had all his life been taking greater or 
less chances in his business of seagoing, he began to 
look at the situation more composedly. 

The Silver Swan was without doubt in far greater 
danger of destruction now than she had been while 
hard and fast on the reef, but no amount of worry- 
ing would better the matter, and therefore one might 
accept the fact coolly. Then, besides, she had floated 
unmolested for over six weeks already, and there was 
a big chance for her doing so for six weeks or more 
to come. 

Blast these navy vessels any way, I say ! ” the old 
man muttered, stumping along now at a moderate 
gait. “ They probably won’t be able to find her. And 
if nothing collides with her, I reckon she’ll keep 
afloat for one while, for I can swear myself that the 
old brig wam’t injured none below the water line — 
she went on that reef jest as easy! 

‘‘ She’s got the same chance o’ staying above board 
— the Silver Swan has — as any other craft that’s 
become a derelict. Look at the schooner W. L. White, 
103 


104 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


abandoned by her crew during the great storm of ’88. 
She floated about the North Atlantic for the better 
part of a year, before she went ashore at last on the 
Hebrides. 

“ An’ then there was the Weyer G. Sargent, ma- 
hogany laden, floated fifty five hundred mile, or more, 
’cording to the pilot chart, a-swingin’ ’round the At- 
lantic from New Foundland to the Azores for two 
years. An’ there may be many another good ship 
that’s got a bigger record ’n that at this very day, 
down in the Sargasso sea. Oh, it might be worse.” 

Nevertheless, despite this cheerful view, the old 
sailor’s forehead was knotted into a scowl as he opened 
the door of the ship owner’s dingy office and entered. 
The red haired clerk was alone at the desk and the 
door of the private office was shut. 

“ Well, you jail bird, are you here yet? ” demanded 
the visitor impolitely, eying the clerk with exceeding 
disfavor. 

“ Oh, is that you, Mr. Featherbee ” 

“ Wetherbee, you scoundrel ! ” roared the sailor, in 
a voi(!e like a bull. 

“ Oh, yes ! I should say Wetherbee — er — that’s 
what I meant,” the clerk hastened to say. 

It was remarkable to notice the difference between 
the greeting accorded to Caleb Wetherbee and that 
given young Brandon Tarr shortly before. 

“ So you haven’t managed to get at Pepperpod’s 
till and clear out, yet, eh ? ” demanded Caleb jocu- 
larly. 

Mr. Weeks scowled and grinned at the same time. 


THE OLD SAILOR’S EXCITEMENT 


105 


a feat that very few men can perform; but he made 
no verbal reply to the question. 

“ Where is he ? ” queried the sailor, nodding toward 
the inner office. “ In his den ? ” 

“ He’s busy — engaged,” Mr. Weeks hastened to 
say. 

“ I believe you’re lying to me. Weeks,” returned the 
sailor, after eying the fellow a moment. ‘‘ You’d 
rather lie than eat. Where’s Pepperpod ? ” 

‘‘He — he really is engaged, sir,” declared Weeks, 
who stood in mortal fear of the brawny sailor. “ That 
is, he told me to say so to anybody that called ” 

“ I don’t doubt it — that’s what’s taught you to 
lie,” cried Caleb, in disgust. “ Well, I’m going to see 
him if he’s engaged fifty times. Cut along now and 
tell him I’m here.” 

Mr. Weeks slowly descended from his stool, evi- 
dently unwilling to comply with the request. 

“ Get a move on you,” the sailor commanded. “If 
you don’t I’ll roast you over a slow fire. I’m just out 
of the hospital and I’ve got an appetite like an ostrich 
— or I’d never think of eating yow.” 

Mr. Weeks unwillingly went to the inner door and 
rapped on the panel. Then he turned the knob and 
went in, remaining a few moments, and on making his 
appearance again, held the portal open for Caleb. 

The sailor entered without a word and the clerk 
closed the door behind him ; then, as on the former oc- 
casion, he applied his ear to the keyhole with a dili- 
gence worthy of a better cause. 

Mr. Pepper was sitting before his desk, which was 
piled high with papers and letters. The day’s mail 


io6 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

had just been sent up from the wareroom office by 
Mr. Marks, the ship owner’s trusted manager, or 

steward,” as Adoniram was in the habit of calling 
him. 

Beginning business life more than fifty years before 
in this very office, Mr. Pepper could not bring him- 
self, as his trade increased, to leave his old quarters, 
and having found his manager to be a most trust- 
worthy man, he had shifted the burden of the more 
arduous duties upon his younger shoulders, and him- 
self reposed contentedly amid the dust, the gloom, and 
the cobwebs of the Water Street office. 

Thus it was that few people ever saw Adoniram 
Pepper & Co.” to know him ; but to his old friends, 
those of his boyhood and young manhood, Adoniram 
was always the same. 

Naturally his acquaintance was mostly among sea- 
faring people, and it was no uncommon sight to see 
old hulks of sea captains and ship owners, long past 
their usefulness, steering a course for the Water Street 
office on pleasant days, where they were sure to re- 
ceive a pleasant word from the little old gentleman, 
if he was in, and not uncommonly a bit of silver to 
spend for luxuries which “ sailors’ homes ” do not 
supply. 

The old gentleman sprang up at once at Caleb’s 
appearance, the unfortunate eye glasses jumping off 
the chubby little nose as though they were endowed 
with life. Mr. Pepper gave both his hands to the 
huge sailor, who indeed looked gigantic beside the lit- 
tle man, and begged him to sit down. 

‘'Well, Pepperpod, how are ye?” cried the sailor. 


THE OLD SAILOR’S EXCITEMENT 


107 


in a hearty roar that shook the light pieces of furni- 
ture in the room, just as his bulk shook the chair he 
had seated himself in. 

“ First rate, old Timbertoes ! ” declared the old gen- 
tleman, laughing merrily. So you’re out of the hos- 
pital, at last?” 

“ I be, Adoniram, I be ! ” cried Caleb with satis- 
faction. Never was so glad o’ anythin’ in my life. 
Them sawbones would have killed me if they’d kep’ 
me there much longer.” 

Well, well, Caleb, you was a mighty sick man — a 
mighty sick man.” 

“ I reckon I was,” responded the sailor reflectively. 

The doctor wouldn’t let me come in to see you,” 
said the merchant, smiling jovially; “ so I had to con- 
tent myself with sending up things.” 

‘‘ Yes, you did,” said Caleb, turning on him sternly. 

I did think, Adoniram, that you wouldn’t waste your 
money on such truck as that — a-sendin’ me white 
grapes, an’ jellies, an’ bunches o’ posies.” 

He snorted in veriest scorn. 

Well, er — er — you see, Caleb, I told Frances 
about you and she took over the things herself,” said 
Adoniram hesitatingly. 

Hem ! ” 

The old sea dog flushe4 up like a girl and mopped 
his suddenly heated face with a great bandanna, finally 
saying gruffly: 

“ You tell your sister. Miss Frances, that I am 
mightily obleeged for ’em, Adoniram. They — er — 
jest went to the right spot, you tell her; jest what I 
needed to tone me up ! ” 


io8 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

“ You’d better come up and tell her yourself, Caleb,” 
said the merchant, with a sly smile. 

“ Well — er — mebbe I will. Thankee, Adoniram.” 

He was silent a moment, and then, suddenly be- 
thinking himself of the errand which had brought him 
there, he turned upon the little merchant with a slap 
of his knee which sounded throughout the office like a 
gun shot. 

“ But this ’ere ain’t what brought me here — not by 
a long chalk. Ye know the Silver Swan, Adoniram? 
Cap’n Horace Tarr’s brig ’t I was with when she 
grounded on Reef Eight, two months and more ago ? ” 

Mr. Pepper nodded. 

‘‘ Well, sir, she’s afloat.” 

“Afloat!” 

“ That’s what I said ; afloat ! A-f-l-o-t-e,” re- 
sponded the sailor, spelling the word very carefully, 
if a trifle erratically. 

“ How — how can that be ? ” 

“ Well, ye see she went aground jest like she was 
goin’ inter stocks for repairs, and if we’d stuck by 
her, it’s my opinion Cap’n Tarr’d ha’ been alive now.” 
He stopped and blew his nose hastily. “ Well, what 
is, can’t be bettered, so we’ll say no more o’ that. 

“ But what I’m gettin’ at is this : she went aground 
all standin’, an’ the storm wot come up right arter- 
wards, blew her off ag’in. She’s been floating, ac- 
cording to this morning’s paper, ever since.” 

“ Well, well I ” exclaimed Adoniram. “ It’s too bad 
her hull can’t be secured for the boy. If it’s still 
sound ” 

“ Sound as a dollar ! ” 

“ Where is it floating? ” 


THE dLD SAILOR’S EXCITEMENT 


109 


“ 'Cordin’ to the report of a cap’n wot sighted her, 
she’s somewheres about latitude 22, longitude 70.” 

A pretty valuable derelict, eh, Caleb ? ” said the 
merchant, reflectively. 

“Valible? Well, I should say!” The old sailor 
looked at his friend curiously a moment, and then 
leaned forward and rested his huge hand on Adoni- 
ram’s knee. ‘‘ Besides a valible cargo wot we took 
on at the Cape and Rio, there's enough diamonds hid 
aboard that brig to make the boy a second Vander- 
bilt! ” 

“ Mercy me ! ” exclaimed the merchant, and this 
time the eye glasses leaped off their insecure resting 
place and fell with a crash to the floor, the splintered 
crystal flying in all directions. 

“Now you’ve done it, Adoniram!” ejaculated Ca- 
leb in disgust. “ What under the canopy a man 
like you — with no nose to speak of — wants to try 
to wear such tackle as them for, is beyond me.” 

“Well — er — Frances thinks they look better on 
me than other kinds of glasses,” remarked the mer- 
chant meekly. 

“ Well — hem ! — I s’pose they do look some better 
on ye,” declared Caleb loyally, and then a slight noise 
from the other side of the door caused him to jump up 
and spring hastily to it. 

When he flung the door open, however, the red 
haired clerk was astride his high stool with a look 
of perfect innocence on his face; but Caleb was not 
reassured. He shook his huge fist at the fellow, and 
then shut the door again, turning the key in the lock 
and hanging his hat upon the door knob for further 
precaution. 


CHAPTER XV 


CALEB RECEIVES A STARTLING COMMUNICATION 

** Some of these days,” said Caleb, with decision, 
when he had taken these precautions, I shall wring' 
that scoundrel’s neck, Adoniram. I wonder at your 
keeping him here.” 

“ Well, you see, nobody else would have him,” re- 
sponded the merchant, as though that fact was reason 
enough for his keeping the objectionable Mr. Weeks. 

Ya-as — one o’ your blasted philanthropic no- 
tions,” declared Caleb, with a snort denoting disgust. 

Well, he’ll rob and murder you some day and then 
you’ll wish you’d heard to me. If ' jail bird ’ ain’t 
written on his face, then I never saw it on no man’s.” 

“ But, Caleb, what do you mean by the astounding 
remark you just made about the Silver Swan? ” asked 
the merchant, drawing the sailor’s mind away from the 
subject of Mr. Alfred Weeks and his frailties. 

“ I’ll tell you about it,” said Caleb, in a lower tone, 
seating himself by the desk again. “ What I said is 
straight, Pepper. There is hidden inside that hulk of 
the Silver Swan, a lot o’ di’monds — how many, I 
don’t know — but enough, according to Cap’n Hor- 
ace’s own words to make a man fabulously rich. 
They belong to his boy, Brandon, and we must get ’em 
for him. 

no 


A STARTLING COMMUNICATION 


III 


“ I never knew a word about the stones till we was 
on the raft. Cap’n Horace was pretty fur gone — 
any one with half an eye could see that — and when 
we’d been out several days an’ hadn’t sighted no ship, 
he wrote a long letter to Brandon an’ give it to me 
with a package of other papers. 

I’ve got them papers right here at this identical 
minute; but I ain’t opened ’em, ’cause it ain’t my 
place to do so. They tells all about the di’monds an’ 
how they come into Cap’n Horace’s ban’s. 

“ It seems that just afore we left the Cape a man 
come aboard the Silver Swan and brought a package 
of wot he thought was papers, to Cap’n Horace, from 
his brother Anson.” 

“ Why, Anson was dead long ago, I thought,” in- 
terrupted Mr. Pepper. 

“ So did everybody else think so ; but he wasn't. 
He was dead, though, when this feller seed Cap’n 
Horace, for he’d give the package into the man’s hands 
when he was dying, for him to send to Cap’n Tarr. 
But we put into the Cape afore the man got ’round 
to sendin’ ’em to the States. 

''He never knew what a valible thing he was a 
carryin’ ’round; but when the cap’n come to open 
the package he found a lot o’ di’monds done up in a 
separate wrapper. These he hid somewhere about 
the brig — he tells about it in this letter to Brandon, 
I b’lieve. 

‘‘ I wanted to know why he didn’t take ’em on the 
raft when we left the brig, but it seems he misdoubted 
himself about a rascally sailor we had with us — one 
Jim Leroyd. 


1 12 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

“ This ’ere Leroyd had been snoopin’ around the 
cabin when the cap’n was given the di’monds, and he 
thought the feller suspected something. So, not 
knowing how it might go with any of us, he left the 
gems on the brig, preferring to risk losin’ ’em alto- 
gether, rather than to cause strife an’ p’r’aps blood- 
shed on that raft. 

An’ I reckon ’twas lucky he did so, fur we had 
trouble enough with that swab Leroyd.” 

“ 'Why, wasn’t he the man who was saved with 
you ? ” asked the merchant. 

“ That’s who.” 

Tell me, Caleb,” said Mr. Pepper earnestly, “ why 
was it he stood the experience so much better than 
you? Why, he was discharged from the hospital in 
a week, so I understand, while you show traces of 
the suffering you underwent even now.” 

Caleb closed his lips grimly and looked at the little 
man in silence for several moments. Then he leaned 
further forward and clutched his arm with one great 
brown hand. 

'' He had food that I didn’t have,” he whispered 
hoarsely. 

“ 'What ! ” cried Adoniram, shrinking back, his eyes 
abulge. 

Caleb nodded slowly. 

“ There were four of us on that raft. Paulo Montez 
— he went first. We divided the food and water, an’ 
that villain Leroyd ate his all up. Then we had ter 
drive him behind his chest at the other end of the 
raft, an’ keep him there at the point of our pistols. 

“ Then the cap’n went, an’ — an’ — I had to throw 


A STARTLING COMMUNICATION 113 

him to the sharks to keep him out o’ the clutches 0’ 
that cannibal Leroyd!” 

“ Great heavens ! ” exclaimed the ship owner, shrink- 
ing back into his chair, his face the picture of horri- 
fied amazement. 

“Yes, sir,” whispered Caleb; “he dragged poor 
Paulo’s body back o’ that chest — an’ — well, ’taint 
no use talkin’ ! I ain’t said a word about it before to 
any living creature. It’s only my word ag’in his, 
at best. But I swear, Adoniram, I’d kill the hound 
with as little compunction as I would a rat. 

“ He’s been sneaking ’round the hospital, inquiring 
about me, too,” continued the sailor. “ He’s got his 
eye on these papers, for he see Cap’n Horace give 
’em to me. I reckon he don’t know what they’re 
about, but he suspects there’s money in it. He was 
’round to the hospital only last night, so the doctor 
told me. 

“ And now, Adoniram, wot I want o’ you is to help 
me find this derelict before some o’ Uncle Sam’s 
blasted iron pots go out after her. We must get the 
boy down from that uncle’s place in Rhode Island 

“ Why, didn’t you see him this morning ? ” asked 
Mr. Pepper, in surprise. 

“ See who? ” 

“Why, the boy — Captain Tarr’s son, Brandon?” 

“ What ? ” roared the sailor. “ Then he’s here in 
New York, is he?” 

“ Why — of — course,” responded the merchant, in 
bewilderment. “ I thought you’d seen him again. He 
started out to call on you not two hours ago. He 


1 14 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

said you’d given him your address — at the New Eng- 
land Hotel, just below here. 

“ And what I want to say, Caleb is that I don’t 
consider it a great proof of friendship on your part, 
for you to go to such a place as that, even if you were 
low in finances. I’d only be too glad to have you 
come to my house and stay the rest of your natural 
life — and so would Frances.” 

“ Me ! — at the New England Hotel ! — why the 
man’s crazy ! ” declared Caleb. 

“ Ain’t you stopping there ? ” gasped the merchant. 

Am I? Well, I guess not! I ain’t but just got 
out o’ the hospital this blessed morning.” 

“ Why, he said he’d seen you once, and you’d told 
him to call at the New England Hotel.” 

“Who?” roared Caleb. 

“ Brandon Tarr.” 

“Why, man alive, I never saw the lad in all my 
life ! ” 

“ Then,” declared Adoniram with energy, “ there’s 
foul play about it. When I came down this morning 
I found the captain’s son waiting to see me. He’d 
just come down from Rhode Island, I believe, and 
he’d got your address — said he’d already seen you 
once, mind you — and was going up to this place to 
see you again. 

“ I thought ’twas funny you should put up at such 
a house, Caleb; but I didn’t know but perhaps you 
were ‘ on your uppers ’ ” (Caleb snorted at this), “ and 
had gone there for cheapness. I told Brandon I’d 
come up after him this noon and take him to lunch.’* 


A STARTLING COMMUNICATION 115 

But Caleb was on his feet now, and pacing the floor 
like a caged lion. 

“ I see it all — I see it all ! ” he declared. It’s some 
o’ that swab Leroyd’s work. Why, man alive, do you 
know what the New England Hotel is? It’s one o’ 
the wickedest places in New York. I know the den 
well, and the feller as runs it, too. Why, the boy’s 
in danger every moment he stays there ! ” 

He seized his hat and jammed it on his head again. 

“ Ef anything’s happened to that boy. I’ll break 
every bone in that scoundrel’s body ! ” he exclaimed, 
seizing the door and throwing it wide open without 
the formality of unlocking it. 

The splintered wood and broken lock flew in all 
directions as he dashed through the doorway and 
flung himself into the street, while Mr. Pepper re- 
mained weakly in his chair, too utterly bewildered to 
move, and the festive Mr. Weeks dodged behind the 
high desk with alacrity, as the sailor went through 
the outer office like a whirlwind. 


CHAPTER XVI 


TELLING HOW BRANDON BEARDED THE LION IN HIS 
LAIR 

As Brandon Tarr entered the apartment behind 
the bar room of the New England Hotel, the man 
at the table raised his head and surveyed him surlily. 
Evidently he had been drinking, and the liquor had 
changed his mood greatly from that of the affable 
sailor who had accosted the captain’s son in the Chop- 
mist woods. 

Well, how came you here?” inquired the sailor, 
in no very friendly tone, gazing at Brandon, with 
bloodshot eyes. 

“ I came down on the train.” 

Ain’t you lost?” 

Guess not,” responded the boy. 

The man shifted his position uneasily, keeping his 
eyes fixed upon his visitor. 

''Can’t say as I expected to see you — just yet, 
any way.” 

" No? ” returned Brandon coolly. 

" Say ! wot the blazes do you want, any way ? ” de- 
manded the sailor fiercely, after an instant’s silence. 
" It won’t pay you to be sassy here, my lad, now I 
can assure ye.” 

" Think so ? Seems to me you’re not as glad to 

ii6 


THE LION IN HIS LAIR 


117 

see me as I reckoned you would be. It didn’t exactly 
pay you to come ’way up to Rhode Island to pump 
me, did it ? ” 

The fellow hissed out an oath between his teeth 
and clinched his fist angrily. 

''You’re too fresh, you are!” he declared. 

" Maybe.” 

" So I went up there to pump you, eh ? ” 

"I reckon.” 

" And what did you come down here for ? ” 

"To pump you,” responded the captain’s son, laugh- 
ing. 

The sailor stared at him in utter amazement for a 
moment. 

" Of all the swabs ” he began, but Brandon 

interrupted him. 

" See here, Wetherbee, I’ve come here for a pur- 
pose. My father intrusted you with some papers for 
me (though why he ever did so I don’t see — I mis- 
trusted your ugly face the first time I ever saw it), 
and now you are trying to play me false.” 

" You know too much ! ” roared the sailor, rising 
and thumping the table with his clenched fist. 

"Yes, I do know too much for your good — or for 
the success of your plot,” Brandon replied, with cool 
sarcasm. " See this ? ” 

He took the bit of newspaper from his pocket and 
tossed it upon the table before the man. 

" What is it ? ” demanded the sailor, clutching at the 
clipping. 

" The newspaper item stating that the Silver Swan 
is a derelict, instead of being sunken, as you declared 


ii8 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

to me. Had I not found it in the woods after you 
left, I might have still believed your lying yarn, Weth- 
^rbee.” 

The sailor crumpled the bit of paper in his first and 
shook the clenched member in the boy’s face. 

“ Young man,” he said with emphasis, “ ye think 
ye’re smart; but do ye know that ye’re likely ter git 
inter trouble ’fore ye get out o’ this place? I don’t 
Tow no boy ter sass me.” 

“ I’m sorry for that,” said Brandon, thinking the 
fellow’s threat but mere bombastic eloquence ; “ for I 
reckon you’ll have to stand it.” 

His very fearlessness caused the man to hesitate 
ere he used violence, for it might be that the boy had 
friends within call. The sailor therefore bit his thick 
lip in fury, and poured a shower of vituperations upon 
liis visitor’s head. 

“ Let me tell you something else, also,” continued 
Brandon. “ I propose to have those papers that 
father gave you.” 

“ Oh, you do ? ” half screamed the man, stamping 
up and down the room in ungovernable rage. 

“Yes, sir; and no amount of swearing will scare 
me. Those papers are mine and if you won’t give 
them up peaceably, the law will make you.” 

Suddenly the man stopped storming and became 
more tranquil. 

“ So you’re goin’ ter law erbout it, be ye? ” 

“ No, I don’t think I’ll have to ; I think you’ll see 
plain enough that it will be best for you to give them 
up. By your own confession you don’t know where 
4:he treasure is hid; but 1 do. Somehow I’m going 


THE LION IN HIS LAIR 


119 

to find the wreck of the brig and get — whatever it 
was father hid. But first, I want those papers that I 
may know what the — the treasure consists of.” 

“ Oh, ye do? Well, how be ye goin’ ter prove that 
I’ve got the docyments?” 

“ Very easily indeed,” Brandon responded frankly. 

I’m going to look up the sailor who was with you on 
the raft. If father gave you the papers he doubtless 
knows it, and I don’t believe that there are two men 
as dishonest as you, Wetherbee.” 

“ So you know where the old man has hid the stuff, 
hey? An’ yer goin’ ter see th’ — th’ other sailor an^ 
git his evidence, be ye?” 

The man’s ugly face turned a deep reddish hue and 
he reached out his hands and clutched the empty chair 
as though he were strangling somebody. The gesture 
was so terribly realistic and the man’s face so dia- 
bolical, that Brandon involuntarily shrank back. 

“You little fool!” hissed the other slowly. 
“ You’ve put yourself right inter my ban’s an’ let me 
tell ye I’m a bad man ter monkey with. I’ve let ye 
hev it all your own way so fur, but now ’twill be my 
turn, an’ don’t you forgit it I Ye know where thet 
treasure is hidden aboard the brig, hey? Then, by 
the great jib boom, ye’ll tell me or ye'll never git out 
o' here alive!" 

As he uttered the threat he sprang upon the boy 
so suddenly that Brandon was totally unprepared for 
the assault. His victim was no match for his great 
strength, and was borne to the floor at once. 

The villain’s hand upon his throat deprived the boy 


120 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


of all power of utterance, and he felt himself being 
slowly choked into insensibility. 

Suddenly the door between the apartment and the 
bar room was flung wide open as though a small 
hurricane had descended upon the establishment of 
the New England Hotel. Don’s villainous assailant 
— big and burly though he was — was seized in a grip 
of iron, pulled from his victim, and thrown bodily to 
the other side of the room. 

“You scoundrel!” roared Caleb (for it was he) 
in a voice that made the chandelier tremble. “ Would 
you kill the lad?” 

But Brandon, now that the pressure was removed 
from his throat, was on his feet in a moment, staring 
curiously at the big, wooden legged sailor. 

“ Just saved you from adding murder to your other 
sins, did I ? ” continued the mate of the Silver Swan. 
“ Did he hurt you, lad ? ” 

“ Guess I’m all right,” responded Brandon, feeling 
of his throat as his assailant arose to his feet, scowling 
ferociously at the new comer. 

“ I’ll live to see you hung yet, Jim Leroyd 1 ” Caleb 
declared, shaking his huge fist at the sailor. 

“ Great Scott ! ” exclaimed Brandon ; “ is that his 
name ? Why, he told me he was Caleb Wetherbee 1 ” 

“ He did, eh ? Blast his impudence I Let me tell 
you, lad, if Cale Wetherbee looked like that scoundrel, 
he’d go drown himself for very shame. Fm Caleb 
Wetherbee, myself, and you, I reckon, are Brandon 
Tarr.” 

Brandon was fairly stupefied by this announcement. 


THE LION IN HIS LAIR 


I2I 


But what about the — the papers father put into 
his hands for me ? he asked, breathlessly. 

Your father give him papers, lad? Well, I reckon 
not! He’s lied to ye.” 

“ Then he hasn’t them ? ” 

'' Not he. I’ve got ’em myself, safe and sound.” 

You have'them? ” repeated Brandon. 

“ That I have,” replied the mate confidently, “ and 
what’s more. I’ve got ’em right here!” 

At this juncture the door behind them opened and 
the red faced barkeeper came into the room. 

“ Look er-here, wot’s de meanin’ of all dis, hey ? 
he demanded, eying Caleb with disfavor. 

“ Oh, it’s you, is it ? ” said the wooden legged sailor, 
in disgust. “ I know you, Jack Brady. Get out 
here, you walking beer keg! I’m having a private 
seance with this gentleman,” intimating the cowed 
Leroyd. 

A quick look of intelligence passed between Leroyd 
and the bartender. 

“ Ye’re tryin’ ter kick up a shindy in dis place, dat’s 
wot ye’re at ! ” declared the latter, rolling up his 
sleeves, belligerently. 

“ Yes, and I’ll kick up a bigger row before I’m 
through,” Caleb replied threateningly. ‘‘ Now you 
run out and play, sonny, while I talk to my friend, 
Mr. Leroyd, here.” 

This so angered the pugilistic looking man that he 
made a dash at the big sailor; but the consequences 
were exceedingly unpleasant. 

Caleb’s hammer-like fist swung round with the force 
of a pile driver, and an ox would have fallen before 


122 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


that blow. As Mr. Brady himself would have put 
it, he was “ knocked out in one round.” 

But the treacherous Leroyd, taking advantage of 
his friend’s attack on the mate, sprang upon Caleb 
from the other side. This flank movement was totally 
unexpected, and, weakened by his long confinement 
in the hospital, the mate of the Silver Swan could not 
hold his own with his former shipmate. 

Both went to the floor with a crash, and as they 
fell Leroyd tore open his antagonist’s coat and seized 
a flat leather case from the mate’s inside pocket. 
Dealing one heavy blow on the other’s upturned face, 
the scoundrel sprang up and disappeared like a shot 
through the door at the opposite end of the apart- 
ment. 

“ Stop him ! ” roared Caleb, and Brandon, who had 
stood utterly bewildered and helpless throughout the 
scene, sprang forward to the door. 

“ The papers ! He’s stolen the papers ! ” he gasped, 
seizing the knob and trying to pull open the door. 

But the key had been turned in the lock and the 
stout door baffled all his attempts upon it. 


CHAPTER XVII 


HOW THE OMNIPRESENT WEEKS PROVES HIS RIGHT TO 
THE TERM 

Hampered as he was by his wooden leg, it was 
several moments before the old sailor could get upon 
his feet, and the festive Mr. Brady, maddened and al- 
most blinded by the blow he had received in the first 
of the fracas, would have pitched into him had not 
Brandon threatened the fellow with one of the heavy 
chairs with which the room was furnished. 

ril make dis the sorriest day er your life, ye 
bloomin’ big brute! ” declared Mr. Brady, holding one 
hand to his bruised face, and shaking the other fist 
at the sailor. “I’ll have ye jugged — that’s wot I’ll 
do ” 

And just then he stopped, for in the doorway lead- 
ing to the bar room stood Adoniram Pepper, flushed 
and breathless, and behind him the burly forms of 
two blue-coated policemen. 

“ Thank goodness, the boy is safe ! ” gasped the 
little merchant. “ Are you hurt, Caleb ? ” 

“ Some shaken up, but that’s all, shipmate,” de- 
clared the mate of the Silver Swan. “ I got here just 
in time to keep that brute Leroyd from choking the 
lad to death.” 

“ Mercy ! and where is he now ? ” 

123 


124 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Skipped, I reckon,” responded Caleb briefly, 
brushing the sawdust ofif his clothing. 

“ But he’s stolen the papers,” said Brandon. 

“ Not the papers your father gave Caleb ? ” cried 
the little man. He must be captured at once ! ” 

“Yes, he robbed me,” said Caleb slowly; “but 
whether he got anything o’ much value or not is an- 
other question. Let’s get out o’ here, ’Doniram, and 
take account o’ cargo.” 

Just here the policemen crowded into the room. 

“ Has your man got away, sir ? ” one of them asked 
Mr. Pepper. 

“ I’m afraid he has, officer — unless you want this 
fellow arrested, Caleb ? ” indicating the saloon keeper. 

At this Brady began to storm and rave disgracefully. 

“ Come, quit that, Brady ! ” commanded officer Mul- 
len. “ You’re deep in this. I’ve no doubt. You want 
to walk a chalk line now, or I’ll have your license taken 
away. D’ye understand ? ” 

Mr. Brady subsided at this threat, and the party 
filed out. 

“ It’s all right now, officer,” said Adoniram, slip- 
ping something into Mr. Mullen’s hand. “We won’t 
trouble you further. If anything more comes of it, 
ril step around and see the captain myself.” 

The two policemen nodded and Mr. Pepper led his 
friends back to his office. 

On the way Brandon explained his previous con- 
nection with the villain Leroyd, and recounted what 
had occurred at the New England Hotel before Caleb’s 
timely appearance. 

“ Well, I reckon you were just what Leroyd told 


THE OMNIPRESENT WEEKS 


I2S 

you — a little too fresh/^ was the comment of the mate 
of the Silver Swan. “ Twas only by luck that ye 
warn’t garroted by that scoundrel. There’s been more 
than one man gone into that dive that never come out 
arterwards, now I tell ye.” 

You are wrong, Caleb,” declared Mr. Pepper con- 
fidently It was not luck — ’twas Providence.” 

Mebbe you’re right, old man,” returned the mate. 
** Now, lad, come in here and tell us all about yourself 
before we do anything further. We want to get a 
thorough understanding o’ the case.” 

They had arrived at the shipping merchant’s office, 
but it was locked and Mr. Pepper had to use his own 
private pass key. 

“ Weeks has gone out,” the old gentleman explained, 
ushering them in. It’s his dinner hour.” 

I’m glad the swab’s out of the way,” growled the 
sailor. “ I don’t see what you keep that prying, sneak- 
ing rascal about here for any way. He’ll do you some 
damage some time, ’Doniram.” 

1 — I should dislike to discharge him,” said the 
old gentleman gently. ‘‘ He — he is an unfortunate 
fellow ” 

“ Unfortunate ! ” snorted the mate in disgust. 

Yes, unfortunate, Caleb. Even his face is against 
him. Who would want such a looking fellow around 
an office ? And office work is all he knows how to do. 
Marks wouldn’t keep him down to the other office, so 
I had to take him up here.” 

‘‘Had to!” 

Caleb stared at his old friend in pitying surprise. 


126 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


“ ’Doniram,” he said, “ you — make — me — 
weary ! ’’ 

Then he shook his head sadly and dropped heavily 
into a chair he had formerly occupied near the mer- 
chant’s desk. 

“ Come,” he said, turning to Brandon, holding out 
his hand affectionately, “ come and sit down here be- 
side me, my lad. We want to know each other better 
— you and I — and I’ve got a good deal to say to ye. 

Your father’s last words to me was ‘ Remember, 
Cale ! ’ an’ they referred to the fac’ that he’d left me 
in charge o’ you — an’ of your property. An’ I’m 
rememberin’, though that hospital business delayed me 
a good bit.” 

But, Caleb,” said the merchant nervously, “ what 
will you do about those — those diamonds,” and he 
looked at Brandon smilingly, “ now that that scamp 
has stolen the captain’s papers ? ” 

“ Diamonds ? ” echoed Brandon. 

“ Aye, diamonds — lashin’s of ’em ! ” the sailor de- 
clared earnestly. “ If yer father was ter be believed — 
an’ you know whether or not to believe him as well 
as I — there’s di’monds hid aboard that brig, enough 
to make you a rich man, my lad.” 

But the papers ? ” repeated Mr. Pepper. 

“ Blast the papers ! ” exclaimed the sailor, slapping 
his thigh impatiently. “ They don’t amount to a row 
of pins.” 

But they’ll tell that Leroyd all about the treasure 
and just where to find it,” said Brandon. 

“ And you won’t know where to look for it aboard 
the Silver Swan,” Mr. Pepper chimed in. 


THE OMNIPRESENT WEEKS 


127 


I won’t hey ? ” responded Caleb with a snort of 
disgust. Sure of that, be ye ? ” 

I think I know where father would place the gems 
for safe keeping,” said Brandon, slowly. 

“Yes, an’ I reckon / know, too,” the mate de- 
clared. “ There’s a sliding panel in the cabin — eh, 
lad?” 

Brandon nodded acquiescence. 

“ Yes, that’s it,” went on the sailor ; “ it come to me 
just now when I was a-thinkin’ of the matter. We 
useter keep our private papers in that ’ere hole in the 
bulkhead. It’s the third panel on the port side from 
the companionway.” 

“ Sh ! ” exclaimed the merchant, “ suppose somebody 
should overhear you.” 

“ Oh, that sneak Weeks isn’t here,” replied Caleb 
carelessly. “ You don’t have anybody else working 
for you here who would snoop like him, do you, ’Doni- 
ram ? ” 

The merchant shook his head with a mild smile. 

“ Well, then,” said the mate of the Silver Swan, 

we can get down to business. We understand each 
other, eh, lad? Ye’ll put yourself under our care, an' 
’Doniram an’ I’ll see you through this thing.” 

“ I’m only too glad to have your help,” cried Don 
warmly. “ Alone I can do nothing ; but with you to 
kelp me, Mr. Wetherbee ” 

“ Drop that ! ” thundered Caleb. “ Don’t you ' mis- 
ter ’ me, blast yer impudence! I’m Cale Wetherbee 
to you, as I was to yer father.” 

Then he added more mildly : 

“ You can count on me, Don. And you can count 


128 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


on Pepperpod, here, every time, eh ? ” and he nodded 
to the ship owner. 

“ That you can, Don,” rejoined Mr. Pepper. And 
already I have a vessel I can place at your disposal. 
It is the whaleback steamer I spoke of this morning. 
You shall have her and go in quest of the Silver 
Swan.” 

A whaleback, hey ? ” repeated Caleb quickly, with 
a doubtful shake of his head. “ I don’t know much 
about them new fangled things.” 

“ Well, you shall before long,” Mr. Pepper declared. 
‘‘With her*you can beat any of these cruisers to the 
brig, and get the diamonds before they blow her sky 
high. 

“ Now, let us go out to lunch ; it is long past my 
regular hour,” he continued. “ I will close the office 
for the day and you must both go home with me. 
Wait, I’ll telephone to Marks.” 

“ Let me git my clo’es brushed before we go up 
town, ’Doniram,” exclaimed Caleb, in sudden haste. 
“ I’ve got sawdust all over me.” 

“ All right,” the merchant responded, giving the 
call for the wareroom office (it was a private line) ; 
“ you’ll find a whisk broom in that wardrobe there. 
Don can brush you.” 

The sailor arose and walked over to the wardrobe, 

“ Dern the thing ! how it sticks,” he remarked im- 
patiently, tugging at the handle. 

Then he exerted his great strength and the door 
flew open with surprising suddenness, and with it, 
to the startled amazement of the entire party, came the 


THE OMNIPRESENT WEEKS 


I2cr 


red haired clerk, Alfred Weeks, clinging vainly to the 
inner knob. 

The momentum of his exit fairly threw him across 
the small room, where he dropped into a chair which 
happened to stand handy, gazing, the picture of fright, 
at the infuriated sailor. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


BRANDON LISTENS TO A SHORT FAMILY HISTORY 

Weeks ! Weeks ! I wouldn’t have thought it of 
you,” exclaimed Adoniram Pepper sorrowfully, turn- 
ing away from the ’phone to gaze sternly at the ras- 
cally clerk. 

Wouldn’t have thought it of him? ” roared Caleb. 

’Doniram, you’re a fool ! It’s just exactly what you 
might have expected of him. Oh, you — you swab, 
you ! ” he added, shaking his fist at the trembling cul- 
prit. “ I wish I had you aboard ship. If I wouldn’t 
haze you ! ” 

Then he sprang at the fellow, and seizing him ere 
he could escape, tossed him face downward over his 
knee, and, while he held him with one hand, delivered 
a most energetic spanking with the other huge palm, 
to his squirming prisoner’s manifest discomfort. 

“ Oh ! oh ! oh ! ” roared Weeks, almost black in the 
face. Oh, he’s a-murderin’ me ! Let me go ! Oh I 
oh!” 

“ Stop your bawling, Alfred,” Mr. Pepper com- 
manded, as the breathless sailor released the scamp 
snd placed him upright with no gentle force. 

Brandon, who had been well nigh convulsed with 
laughter at the mode of punishment the clerk had re- 
130 


A SHORT FAMILY HISTORY 131 

ceived, had not thought it possible for the jolly Ado- 
niram to ever appear so stern as he did now. 

“ Weeks,” continued the merchant, the customary 
smile totally eradicated from his features, “ Weeks, I 
have done my best for you for ten years. I’ve helped 
you the best I know how. I have shielded you from 
those who would have given you over to justice more 
than once, for your petty crimes. Now, sir, I am 
through with you ! 

“ This offense is unpardonable. You may go down 
to the other office and draw your salary to the end of 
the month, and never let me see you again until you 
have become a respectable member of society, and 
shown by your actions, not by words, that you are 
such. Go at once, sir ! ” 

Weeks hesitated an instant as though he contem- 
plated making an appeal to his old employer for mercy ; 
but the look on Mr. Pepper’s face forbade that. The 
old merchant was an embodiment of justice now; 
mercy for the rascally clerk had flown. 

Picking up his hat, he limped silently to the door, 
hut ere he disappeared he turned and looked at Bran- 
don, who, in spite of himself, was unable to keep his 
face straight. He glared at the laughing youth an in- 
stant, and then the real nature of the fellow flashed 
out from beneath the veneer of apparently harmless 
impudence and cunning. 

His dark, old looking face flushed deeply red, his 
narrow eyes flashed with sudden rage, and he shook 
his clenched fist at Brandon Tarr with insane fury. 

I’ll even things up with you, you young whelp ! 


132 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

he hissed, and in another moment limped out of the 
place. 

“A nice fellow you’ve harbored, there, ’Doniram, 
just as I told you,” Caleb declared. “ He’ll knife you 
some dark night, if you’re not careful.” 

But Adoniram only shook his head sadly and re- 
turned to the telephone. After talking to his manager 
several minutes, he picked up his hat and gloves and 
led the way out of the office, locking it behind him. 

“ Adoniram Pepper & Co. will take a holiday to- 
day,” he said, his old jovial smile returning. “ First 
let us go to lunch.” 

They were all too hungry by this time to go far 
before attending to the wants of the inner man; but 
notwithstanding that they were so far down town, 
Adoniram was able to introduce them to a very com- 
fortable looking little chop house. He also, despite 
their protestations, settled the checks himself, and then 
telephoned to Brandon’s hotel and to the Marine Hos- 
pital for the luggage of both his guests to be sent to 
his up town residence. 

“ We’ll go up leisurely and give the baggage a 
chance to get there before us,” said the merchant, as 
they left the restaurant; “then Frances will know that 
company is coming.” 

So they saw a bit of New York for Brandon’s bene- 
fit, arriving at the large, though plain looking house 
in which the merchant resided, just before six o’clock. 

Brandon noticed, as they neared their destination, 
that the old sailor seemed ill at ease, and that the con- 
versation was being mostly carried on by Mr. Pepper 
and himself. He did not understand this until they 


A SHORT FAMILY HISTORY 


1,33 


were in the house, and the old merchant had gone to 
summon his sister to meet his guests. 

Caleb seemed terribly nervous. He sat on the edge 
of the substantial, upholstered chair and twisted his 
hat between his huge hands, his face and neck of 
flaming hue, while his eyes were downcast, and he 
started at every sound. 

Finally, ^Ls the merchant did not return at once, 
Caleb drew forth his bandanna and blew his nose furi- 
ously. 

“ This ’ere is terrible, isn’t it, lad ? ” he muttered 
hoarsely, to Brandon, who had been eying him in great 
surprise. 

“ What is, Caleb?” 

“ This ’ere meeting ladies, ye know,” ^responded the 
mate of the Silver Swan in a mild roar, laboring under 
the delusion that he was speaking very low indeed. 

“ There isn’t but one, Caleb,” replied Don encour- 
agingly. 

“I — I know it,” said Caleb, with a groan ; “ but 
she’s — she’s th’ spankin’est craft ever yer see ! Sails 
alius new and fresh, riggin’ all taut — I tell ye, lad, 
it alius rattles me for fear I ain’t all trim.” 

‘‘ You look first rate, Caleb,” Brandon assured him, 
stifling a desire to laugh as the old seaman evidently 
considered the occasion so serious. “ I wouldn’t 
worry.” 

“ That’s easy enough for you to say,” returned 
Caleb, with another shake of his head. ‘‘ You 
wouldn’t be Cap’n Horace’s son if ye didn’t find it all 
plain sailin’ in a city droorin’ room, same’s on th’ 


134 the quest of THE SILVER SWAN 

ship’s deck; but with me it’s diflferent. Oh, Lordy I 
she’s hove in sight.” 

There was a rustle of silken skirts, and Brandon 
looked up to see Miss Frances Pepper entering the 
room. 

She was short and plump like her brother, though 
of considerable less weight, and she smiled like him. 
But otherwise Miss Pepper was rather prim and exact 
in her appearance, manner, and dress. As the sailor 
had said ‘‘ her rigging was all taut,” and she looked 
as though she had just stepped out of a bandbox. 

“ My old friend, Mr. Whitherbee ! ” she exclaimed, 
holding out her hand to Caleb with unfeigned warmth. 

‘‘ Wetherbee — Caleb Wetherbee, ma’am,” re- 
sponded Caleb, in a monotone growl, seizing the tips 
of the lady’s fingers as though they were as fragile 
as glass, and he feared to crush them in his calloused 
palm. 

‘‘ Oh, yes — Mr. Wetherbee,” she replied brightly, 
gazing frankly into the old seaman’s face, which natu- 
rally added materially to poor Caleb’s confusion. I 
was very sorry to hear about your illness, and am glad 
you have at length been released from the hospital 
ward.” 

Then she turned to Brandon who had also risen. 
She went up to him, and seizing both his hands im- 
printed a motherly kiss upon his forehead. 

The youth saw that her soft brown eyes, which could 
not possibly look stern as could her brother’s gray 
ones, were filled with tears. 

“ God bless you, my boy ! ” she said, in a low tone. 


A SHORT FAMILY HISTORY 


135 


‘‘ I knew your father, Captain Tarr, and a very nice 
man he was. You are like him. 

“And now, brother,” added Miss Frances briskly, 
“ if you will take Mr. Wetherbee to his room to pre- 
pare for dinner, I will show Brandon to his apartment. 
Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.” 

Mr. Pepper, who had entered behind his sister, bore 
Caleb oif as she had commanded, to a room on the 
lower floor, while Brandon was led up stairs by Miss 
Frances. The house was nicely though plainly fur- 
nished, evidences of comfort rather than of great 
wealth being apparent. 

Everywhere, on mantel and table, and in the niches 
of the hall, were innumerable curiosities in the line 
of shells and coral brought from all parts of the world. 

Miss Frances ushered Brandon into a very prettily 
furnished chamber on the second floor — almost too 
daintily furnished for a boy’s room, in fact. Innu:- 
merable bits of fancy work and the like, without doubt 
the work of feminine fingers, adorned the place ; yet 
all was fashioned in a style of at least twenty years 
back. 

Above the bed, in a heavily gilded frame, was a 
large portrait of a young woman — not exactly a beau- 
tiful woman, but one with a very sweet and lovable 
face — which smiled down upon the visitor and at- 
tracted his attention at once. 

Miss Frances noticed his glance, and lingered a 
moment at the door. 

“ It was our little sister Milly,” she said softly. 
“ This was her room years ago. She was more than 
twenty years younger than Adoniram and I.” 


136 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


“ Then she died ? queried Don softly, still gazing 
up at the smiling face. 

“ No, she married against father’s wishes. Dather 
was a very stern, proud man ; not at all like Adoniram, 
who, I am afraid, is not stern enough for his good,” 
and she smiled a little; but there was moisture in her 
eyes as she gazed up at the portrait. 

“ She was a lovely girl — at least we thought so — 
and she was father’s favorite, too. But she married 
a poor sea captain by the name of Frank, in direct op- 
position to father’s command, and so he cast her off. 

“ He forbade Adoniram or me having anything to 
do with her, or to help her in any way, and she her- 
self put it out of our power to do so, by going to the 
other side of the world with her husband. Several 
years later we heard of her death, and were told that 
there was a child; but although Adoniram has done 
all he could he has never been able to find this Cap- 
tain Frank.” 

The old lady wiped her eyes before continuing. 

“ After father died we had this room fixed just as 
she used to have it, and had that picture hung there. 

“ Now, Brandon, I won’t bother you longer. There 
is your satchel, which the expressman brought an hour 
ago. If you want anything, please ring.” 

Then she departed, and left the captain’s son to 
make ready for dinner. 


CHAPTER XIX 


TELLING A GREAT DEAL ABOUT DERELICTS IN GENERAL 

Although there seemed to be everything for com- 
fort about the Pepper mansion, the habits of the house- 
hold were most simple. Miss Frances was evidently 
a woman of very domestic tastes, and had a vital in- 
terest in all her household arrangements. Yet there 
appeared to be plenty of servants about. 

When dinner was over, the merchant had a short 
conference with his manager, Mr. Marks, who always 
came to report on matters at the close of the day; 
after which he took his two guests into the library, 
and the all absorbing topic of the search for the Silver 
Swan was broached by Caleb, who had now regained 
some of his wonted confidence. 

“ This ’ere delay is a bad thing,” the old sailor de- 
clared, when Miss Frances had left them to talk the 
matter over. If I hadn’t been laid up all these 
weeks in the hospital, I sh’d ha’ follered up the brig 
long before, and had the di’monds. Now we’ve got 
two — yes, three — circumstances against us. 

“ First and foremost is the fact that the Swan has 
already been afloat ’most two months, an’ that’s longer 
than the majority of derelicts last. Then these con- 
founded cruisers may get after her any minute, which 
will be remarkably bad for our plans. And thirdly, 
137 


138 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


as the parsons say, there’s that rascal Leroyd. He’s 
not the man I think him if he doesn’t make a break 
for the wreck at once.” 

And he’s got the papers, too,” interjected JVTr. Pep- 
per. 

Caleb smiled at this, but said nothing in reply, con- 
tinuing his remarks: 

Now, I’ve seen a good many derelicts in my time 
— a good many — but if the Silver Swan is in the 
shape I think her, she’s liable (setting aside accident) 
to float for months. And she’s got lots of company, 
too.” 

“ I should think these derelicts would be dreadfully 
dangerous,” suggested Brandon, with all the curiosity 
of a boy about anything pertaining to sea and sea go- 
ing. 

“ They are,” declared Caleb ; more dangerous, it’s 
likely, than anybody dreams of. Many a good ship — 
steamers and sailing vessels both — has doubtless gone 
to Davy Jones’ Locker because of them. Take one o’ 
these ’ere European steamships making time across 
the ocean ; she strikes a derelict — a coal laden one, 
mebbe ; they’re the most dangerous — and we never 
hear of her again. 

‘‘I’ll never forget something that happened when 
I was mate of the American bark Neptune, several 
years ago. The Neptune were a mighty speedy craft, 
an’ Cap’n Tollman was a terror for crowding on all 
sail. 

“ We was scuddin’ along one dark night before a 
stiff easterly gale, an’ I had the deck. It was just be- 
fore eight bells — half past three o’clock, mebbe — 


ABOUT DERELICTS IN GENERAL 


139 


when all to onct the man on lookout gave a yell that 
fairly riz my hair on end. 

“ ‘ A wreck ! dead ahead ! ’ he yelled. ‘ Down with 
your helm ! hard down ! ’ 

“ I jumped to the wheel myself an’ helped the helms- 
man swing ’er over. Right up before us loomed the 
dim, black form of a vessel — her stern under water, 
an’ her bowsprit straight up. I tell ye, for about two 
minutes I was dead sure ’twas all day with the old 
Neptune, and us along with her. 

“ However she did it I dunno, but she answered her 
helm quicker ’n she did afore or since. She jest 
shaved the wreck, some of the cordage fastened to the 
upright bowsprit catching in our spars an’ being torn 
away, an’ we slipped by without any damage. But 
I don’t want to have a closer shave than that” 

“ That was a close call, Cale,” said Mr. Pepper re- 
flectively. “ I’ve a man in my employ — Richards his 
name is ; he sails this trip as captain of the Calypso — 
who came originally from New Brunswick. A regu- 
lar ‘ blue-nose ’ he is, and a good sailor. 

“ Well, he was one of the crew of the ‘ Joggins 
raft ’ as it was called, that left the Bay of Fundy for 
New York several years ago.” 

“ And a mighty foolish thing that was, too,” inter- 
rupted Caleb, shaking his head. It’s a merciful 
Providence that that thing didn’t occasion half a 
dozen wrecks ; but it didn’t, as far as anybody knows.” 

“ Richards tells a pretty thrilling story of his ex- 
perience,” the merchant continued, seeing that Bran- 
don was interested in the tale. “ Lumber and coal 
laden derelicts are considered the most dangerous, eh, 


140 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Caleb? And this Joggins raft was probably the most 
perilous object that was ever set afloat. 

“ The raft was composed of 27,000 great tree trunks, 
bound together with chains, and it weighed something 
like eleven thousand tons. The hawsers by which it 
was towed, parted in a hurricane, and the raft went to 
pieces south of Nantasket. For a good many months 
the logs were reported as scattered over a great por- 
tion of the North Atlantic. As Caleb says, however, 
they did no damage, but the hydrographic charts dur- 
ing the time were plentifully decorated with them.” 

“ What are these hydrographic charts ? ” asked 
Brandon, with interest. “ That clipping Leroyd lost 
and which I found, mentioned the matter of the Swan’s 
being reported to the Hydrographic Oflice at Wash- 
ington. What did it mean ? ” 

“ Well,” responded Mr. Pepper, while Caleb, at the 
little merchant’s request, filled and smoked his evening 
pipe, “ when these abandoned wrecks are sighted by 
incoming steamers, they are reported at once to the 
Hydrographic Office at the capitol, the latitude and 
longitude, name of the vessel if known, and her posi- 
tion in the water, being given. 

“ As fast as messages of this kind are received at 
the office they are posted on a big blackboard on which 
is inscribed an outline map of the North Atlantic. 
The position of each derelict is indicated by a pin stuck 
into the board, and thrust at the same time through a 
square scrap of paper. 

“ On this bit of paper is inscribed in red ink the 
name of the deserted craft, if it is known, together 
with a minute picture showing the attitude of the 


ABOUT DERELICTS IN GENERAL 


141 

vessel, whether bottom up, sunken at the stern, or 
what not. 

‘‘ These little pictures are reproduced on the next 
pilot chart (which is a monthly publication), and 
chane^es are made in the chart as frequently as the 
derelicts are reported.^’ 

“ Seems to me, 'Doniram,’" remarked Caleb, puffing 
away with vast content at the pipe — “ seems to me 
you know a good deal about this derelict business.” 

The little man seemed strangely confused at this, 
and l:is jolly face blushed a deep red as he shifted his 
position restlessly. 

“ Well,” he said slowly. “ I have been looking it 
up lately. I — I had an idea — a scheme, you know 
— that caused me to study the matter some. Seems 
odd, too, doesn’t it, with the matter of the Silver Swan 
coming right on top of it ? ” 

But here Brandon, whpse thoughts had been wan- 
dering a little, interrupted any further questioning on 
the sailor’s part. 

“ I’m dreadfully sorry that that rascally Leroy d got 
away with the letter father wrote me,” he said reflec- 
tively. 

Caleb looked at him with a smile, and removed his 
pipe from between his lips. 

‘‘ Did I say he had got away with it ? ” he said. 

‘‘ Eh? ” interjected Adoniram, quickly. 

‘‘ What do you mean ? ” queried Brandon. 

‘‘ See here,” said Caleb, enjoying their surprise. 
You’ve been running this pretty much by yourselves. 
I haven’t said that the swab got away with the papers, 
have I?” 


142 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


“ For pity’s sake, what did he steal then ? ” de- 
manded Brandon, springing to his feet. 

“ Well,” returned the mate of the Silver Swan, by 
my reckoning he got an old pocketbook with some 
worthless bills of lading in it and about ten dollars in 
money — an’ much good may it do him.” 

” Why — why — ” sputtered Mr. Pepper, staring at 
the smiling sailor in amazement. \ 

“ Now, don’t be in a hurry,” urged Caleb. I 
didn’t say the papers were stolen, so don’t ye accuse 
me o’ that. Ye both jumped at that conclusion and 
I let you think so, for as I’d made a fool of myself 
once by lettin’ folks know I had ’em, I reckoned I 
wouldn’t do it again. 

‘‘ But now,” he added, if ye think this is the time 
and place to see them papers, I can perduce ’em ter 
oncet.” 

“ Where are they ? Let’s see ’em,” urged Brandon, 
in excitement. 

“ All right, my lad. If you says the word, why 
here goes.” 

The old sailor laid his pipe down, and coolly began 
to unstrap his wooden leg. The implement was an old 
fashioned affair, consisting of a smoothly turned stick 
at the lower end hardly larger than a broom handle, 
but swelling as it rose, to the semblance of a leg. 

In a moment he had it off and to the surprise of his 
two friends this swelled portion of the imitation limb 
was hollow. From this cavity he drew forth first a 
bulky wallet and then a package of papers wrapped in 
oiled paper. 

There ye be,” he declared, with satisfaction. '' If 


ABOUT DERELICTS IN GENERAL 


143 


rd known about them diamonds afore we left the brig, 
I sh’d have had the cap’n let me hide 'em in this 'ere 
timber leg. Then we'd have been saved a mighty 
sight o' bother." 


CHAPTER XX 


THE CONTENTS OF SEVERAL INTERESTING DOCUMENTS 

Well, of all things!’^ ejaculated Mr. Pepper, as 
the old sailor produced the papers from their queer 
repository, while Brandon burst out laughing. 

“ There’s some reasons for being grateful for even 
a wooden leg,” remarked Caleb grimly. “ I hid those 
papers there when I was aboard the raft, and if I’d 
passed in my checks I reckon papers an’ all would 
have gone to the sharks, for Leroyd would never have 
thought to look there for ’em.” 

Then he strapped the artificial limb in place again, 
and gravely handed the package to Brandon. The boy 
had lost all desire to laugh now, for he was in posses- 
sion of the last written words of his father, and for a 
moment his hands trembled and his eyes filled with 
tears. 

“ Open it, my lad,” said the sailor. “ I haven’t 
touched the wrapper since Cap’n Horace gave it to 
me.” 

Brandon untied the string which bound the package, 
and removed the oiled paper. There were several 
folded documents within and one was marked : 

“To my son, Brandon, 

Horace Tarr.” 


144 


SEVERAL INTERESTING DOCUMENTS 145 


Don quickly opened the paper, recognizing the chi- 
rography of the dead captain at once, although much 
of the writing was blurred and illy formed, showing 
how great a tax the effort had been for the injured 
and dying man. It read as follows : 

On Board the Raft, 

' Tuesday Noon. 

My Beloved Son: 

We have now been on this raft two days, and I feel that 
my end is drawing near, although my companions will doubt- 
less escape. But I have received a terrible blow on the head, 
and my sufferings at times are frightful; therefore I know I 
am not long for this world. 

Oh, that I might see you again, my son! That I might be 
spared to reach you, and to put into your hand the power to 
make you the wealthy man I should have been had I lived. 
But no ; it could not be. Fortune has at last come to the 
Tarrs, but I shall not share it ; your uncle Anson was not 
benefited by it, and death will overtake me soon, too. But 
you, my son, I pray may regain the fortune which I have 
hidden aboard the brig. 

V/e committed a grave error in leaving the wreck; I know 
that now. The hull of the Silver Swan was uninjured, and 
she may outlast many gales. I shall put these papers into 
Caleb Wetherbee’s hands ere I am called, and he, I know, 
will help you to regain the fortune which first belonged to 
Anson. Be guided by him, and trust him fully. 

The letter from your uncle will explain all about the dia- 
monds, and how he came in possession of them. I dared not 
take the gems with me from the brig, for Leroy d knew about 
them, or suspected their presence, and he would have killed 
us all for them, I fear. 

But they are hidden in the steel lined closet — the one I 
showed you in the cabin. Caleb knows where it is. Go to 
the reef at once and get the jewels, before some one else gets 
there. There are diamonds enough to make you fabulously 
rich, if Anson appraised them rightly. 

I am so weak that I cannot write longer. 


146 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


These will probably be my last words on earth to you, my 
son. Live uprightly ; fear God ; and hold sacred your moth- 
ers memory. God bless you, my boy! Farewell! 

Your loving father, 

Horace Tarr. 

Tears fairly blinded Don’s eyes as he finished read- 
ing the missive. He passed it to Mr. Pepper, who, 
in turn, passed it to Caleb. 

He was a good man,” declared Adoniram softly, 
while the old sailor blew his nose loudly, and wiped 
the suspicious moisture from his eyes. 

“ That he were ! ” responded the latter. “ Cap’n 
Horace were all that he tells you to be, Don.” 

Please God, Pll be worthy of his memory,” said 
Brandon quietly. “If we are fortunate enough to 
obtain any of this treasure he speaks of, I hope I 
shall use it wisely, and as he would wish.” 

“ Don’t you fear — we’ll get it, lad,” Caleb assured 
him earnestly. “ I feel it in my bones we will.” 

“ What else was there in the package ? ” asked the 
merchant curiously. 

“ There were two other papers,” Brandon replied. 
“ One is my father’s will.” 

He picked that up from his lap and opened it. 

“ Why,” he exclaimed, “ you are named as executor, 
Mr. Pepper.” 

He passed the legal document to Adoniram who ad- 
justed the eye glasses (of which a new pair had been 
purchased), and examined it with manifest surprise. 

“ This is a legal will, as sure as I am alive 1 ” he 
exclaimed. “ It was drawn up at Rio by an American 
lawyer — a Mr. Bromley. Properly signed and wit- 
nessed.” 


SEVERAL INTERESTING DOCUMENTS I 47 


‘‘Well, you’ll look out for it, won’t you?” said 
Caleb, who was eager to hear the other paper — the 
letter from Anson Tarr to his brother — read. 

“ Of course. But let me tell you its contents,” re- 
plied the merchant. “ It is short and to the point, 
Caleb. You are given the Silver Swan, in fee simple, 
and everything else goes to Brandon, here.” 

He read the paragraph which secured all the prop- 
erty of which Captain Tarr had been possessed, ex- 
cepting the brig, to Brandon, including “ certain uncut 
diamonds, roughly estimated at two hundred thousand 
dollars.” 

“Two hundred thousand!” repeated Brandon, in 
bewilderment. 

“ Quite a pile, my boy,” said Caleb. “ That is, if 
we get ’em.” 

“ And you and I, Caleb,” concluded Mr. Pepper, 
“ are joint guardians of Don.” 

“ All right, all right,” cried the impatient sailor. 
“ But let’s hear the other letter, my lad. Read it out.” 

Thus urged, Brandon unfolded the third paper, and 
read its contents aloud: 


“Kimberley, South Africa, 

“ November the 27th, 1891. 

“Brother Horace: 

“ Probably you have long since believed me dead, and I 
have given you good reason for that belief, for, if I am not 
mistaken, it was eight years ago, after my miserable failure 
at the Australian gold diggings, that I last wrote to you. 

“ I intended then that you should never hear from me again. 
I was a failure — a complete failure, I believed — and I de- 
termined to tempt fortune no further. With this intention 
I went to an island in the Pacific, and buried myself there. 


148 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


with only natives and one other white man for company, for 
six years. 

“Then the old roving spirit awoke in me again, and I 
longed to try my luck once more where other men were gain- 
ing wealth. The news of the rich finds here in the diamond 
fields reached even our lonely isle, and finally I could not 
resist the temptation longer, and came here, leaving my com- 
panion to dwell alone among the natives. I have been here 
now the better part of a year and, at last, have been suc- 
cessful ! 

“Two months ago I struck a pocket in the hills, and out 
of a trench less than two rods in length, I have dug what I 
believe to be at least forty thousand pounds’ worth of dia- 
monds of exceptional purity. But the diggings have now 
petered out. 

“ I kept the find a secret, and got all there was myself, ex- 
cepting a small number which my black digger ran away with, 
and^now I am afraid I shall not live to enjoy my riches. 

“ Perhaps it is as well. You know that riches have ever 
taken wings with us, and I should probably lose all in some 
other venture. I hope that you, Horace, will do better with 
them than I, for to you, brother, and to your boy, if he has 
lived, I bequeath the gems. 

“ I have been very ill now several days and the physician 
tells me that I am in a very bad way. Exposure to all sorts 
of weather in every kind of climate, is telling on me. There- 
fore I do write this to you, my brother, and take precaution 
to have the letter and the package of uncut stones sent to 
you. 

“ Nobody here knows of my find. It is safest to trust no- 
body in such a place as this. I propose to give the letter and 
the gems, all in a sealed packet, to a friend, who is the most 
trustworthy man I know, and have him give them to you. 
He will believe the package to contain nothing but papers, 
and therefore you will stand a good chance of getting the 
diamonds safely. 

“ Good by for this world, Horace. May the luck of the 
Tarrs be changed with this find of mine. 

“ Your brother, 

“Anson Tarr.” 


SEVERAL INTERESTING DOCUMENTS I49 

Well,” exclaimed Caleb, with a sigh, as Brandon 
folded the document, we’ve got the rights of it at 
last. Tw'O hundred thousand dollars wuth o’ di’monds 
— for that’s what forty thousand pounds mean, I take 
it, eh, ’Doniram?” 

“ About that,” said the merchant. “ You will be a 
very rich man, Don.” 

Let’s not count our chickens too soon,” said the 
youth, trying to stifle his excitement. It seems too 
bewilderingly good to be true.” 

“ That’s a good idea about not countin’ our chick- 
ens,” said Caleb. “ But we’ll have a whack at ’em 
just as soon as possible, my lad.” 

And you’ll let me furnish the vessel,” the mer- 
chant added. 

Let’s see,” said the old sailor. “ You was saying 
something about havin’ one all ready. ’Doniram, 
wasn’t you ? ” 

“ One that can be ready in a week’s time, any way ; 
and the craft you want, too — a whaleback.” 

“ I dunno,” said Caleb slowly. I don’t fancy them 
new fangled things. What under the sun did you ever 
get a whaleback steamer for ? ” 

Mr. Pepper looked at his old friend curiously, and 
his little eyes twinkled. 

“ Well,” he said reflectively, oddly enough, I 
purchased Number Three from the American Barge 
Company for the very purpose for which you wish to 
use it.” 

“ What ? ” shouted Caleb. 

Not to go in search of the Silver Swan ? ” cried 
Brandon, in wonder. 


150 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

No, not exactly that ; but to go in quest of dere- 
licts in general.” 

“ Another of your crazy ideas, ’Doniram ! ” Caleb 
declared finally. 

“ Perhaps ; but I notice that most of my ^ crazy 
ideas ’ turn out pretty successfully, old Timbertoes,” 
said the little merchant jovially. “If you’ll give me 
a chance, though. I’ll explain ho'w I came to think of 
this ‘ crazy idea.’ ” 


CHAPTER XXI 


IN WHICH JMR. PEPPER MAKES A PROPOSITION TO CALEB 
AND DON 

“You see,” the ship owner began, as soon as he 
was assured of the attention of his audience, “ I have 
had my eye on these whaleback steamers from the 
start. Three years ago, you know, nobody but Cap- 
tain Alexander MacDougal, the inventor, knew any- 
thing about them. 

“ We are altogether too conservative here in the 
East,” continued Adoniram warmly. “ It takes the 
Westerners to get hold of new things, and practically 
test them. These whalebacks are a Western idea 
and were first used and tested on the Great Lakes. 

“You don’t seem to realize, Caleb, that the boat 
was never built which could sail as easily as those 
whalebacks. In the heaviest gales they only roll 
slightly, as a log would at sea. The waves can beat 
against the curved steel sides of the craft as much as 
they like, or wash clean over her; but the boat is not 
affected by them in the least.” 

“ It’s the most wonderful thing I ever heard of,’^ 
Brandon declared. 

“ They are wonderful boats, as you will declare, 
yourself, when you see Number Three, tomorrow,” 
Adoniram returned. “ My whaleback is 265 feet long, 
151 


152 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


38 feet beam, and 24 feet deep. She is warranted to 
carry 3,000 tons of grain on a sixteen and one half foot 
draft. You see, for her size, she carries an enormous 
cargo, for between the collision bulkhead forward, and 
the bulkhead in front of the engine room aft, the whole 
inside of the craft is open for lading. 

“ But my scheme — the reason I bought this vessel, 
in fact — is this,” went on Mr. Pepper. 

He hesitated a moment, and looked just a little 
doubtfully at Caleb. 

“ I presume this is what you will call a ‘ crazy idea,' 
Caleb,” he said. “ Several months ago my attention 
was drawn to the fact that great numbers of these 
derelicts now afloat in the Atlantic, north of the 
equator, are richly laden merchant vessels on whose 
cargoes and hulls a large salvage might be demanded 
by any vessel towing them into port. 

“ Now and then, you know, it happens that some- 
body does recover a derelict with a valuable cargo. 
In these times, when the crews of American ships, 
and even many of the officers, are ignorant and un- 
trustworthy fellows, lacking altogether the honor and 
perseverance which were characteristics of sailors 
forty years ago (I don’t say that all are so, but many) 
under these circumstances, I say, many a vessel which 
might be worked safely into port, is abandoned in 
mid ocean by the frightened crew. 

“ With a vessel like Number Three one could re- 
cover and tow into port many of these hulks, and net 
a large salvage from the owners. Vessels which 
would not be worth saving themselves, might still con- 
tain articles which it would pay to transfer to the hold 


MR. PEPPER MAKES A PROPOSITION i53 


of the whaleback, before they were sunk ; for it was 
my intention to have Number Three destroy all the 
wrecks which are not worth saving. 

“ I have even sounded the Washington officials in 
the matter of aiding me in the work of destroying 
these derelicts ; but I find that the Hydrographic Office 
is trying to get an appropriation from Congress to 
build a vessel of about 800 tons burden, especially for 
the work of blowing up these wrecks. Until that 
matter is decided, of course I can get no bonus on 
what I do. 

“ Nevertheless,’’ Mr. Pepper continued, “ I believe 
that there is money enough in it to amply reward me 
for my outlay. Why, look at that New England 
whaler which found the British ship Resolute fast in 
the ice of Melville Bay in the summer of ’55. 

She was one of three vessels sent out by the Brit- 
ish government to find Sir John Franklin. She was 
' nipped ’ by the ice in the winter of ’51 and was aban- 
doned. The whaler brought her to New London, and 
Congress bought her for $200,000 salvage and sent 
her to England. Of course, I shouldn’t expect to get 
many such prizes as that,” and the little man laughed, 

but I do expect to make a handsome profit on the 
venture.” 

“ Take, for instance, the case of the Silver Swan. 
I’ll make you a proposition, Brandon, and you see if it 
isn’t a fair one. Caleb shall judge himself. I’ll send 
the whaleback out after the brig at my own expense. 
If we are successful and find the derelict and tow her 
to port, I will take the cargo (I know it to be a valu- 
able one) for my pains — of course, not including the 


154 the quest of THE SILVER SWAN 

diamonds, which are your own personal property, my 
boy. The brig herself is Caleb’s, any way, according 
to the terms of your father’s will. Now what do you 
say ? ” 

‘‘ I say it’s a good offer ! ” exclaimed Caleb, slap- 
ping his thigh heartily. You’re a man and a gentle- 
man, Adoniram. And far from thinking this scheme 
of yours crazy, I think well of it — mighty well.” 

“ That’s because it ‘ hits you where you live,’ as the 
saying is,” returned Mr. Pepper, smiling slily. 

‘‘ Oh, I don’t know anything about whalebacks,’' 
began Caleb. 

“ But you will,” the merchant declared, interrupting 
him. ‘‘ I haven’t got through with my proposition yet.” 

“ Fire ahead, old man,” said Caleb puffing steadily 
on his pipe. 

“ Well, then, first I want you for the captain of the 
steamer, Caleb.” 

“ Yes, so I supposed,” remarked the mate of the 
Silver Swan imperturbably. What else ? ” 

‘‘ I want Brandon for second mate.” 

Me ? ” exclaimed Don. ‘‘ Why, I never was 
aboard a steamship in my life.” 

“ Oh, that doesn’t make any difference, Don,” re- 
turned Caleb sarcastically. “ It would be just like 
him (if he wanted to) to send the vessel out with 
every blessed one of the crew landlubbers. It don’t 
make a particle o’ difference.” 

Now, Caleb,” said the merchant deprecatingly. 

“ No, Adoniram, we can’t do it. The boy knows 
nothing at all about a steamship, and I know but little 
more.” 


MR. PEPPER MAKES A PROPOSITION 


155 - 


You’ve been mate on a steamer, Caleb.” 

“ On a dredger, you mean,” returned the old sailor, 
in disgust. 

“ There’s no reason why you can’t do it — both of 
you,” the ship owner declared. “ If I’m satisfied, you 
ought to be. I’ve already engaged Lawrence Coffin 
for mate.” 

Coffin!” ejaculated Caleb, his face lighting up, 
as he forgot to pull on his pipe in his interest. “ Got 
him, eh? Well, that puts a different complexion on 
the matter. I could sail the Great Eastern with Law- 
rence Coffin for mate.” 

‘‘ I thought so,” said Mr. Pepper, laughing gleefully.. 
‘‘ Then I’ve got a man by the name of Bolin for third.. 
He’s a good man, and knows his business, too.” 

“ That would make Don’s duties pretty light,” said 
Caleb reflectively. 

“ Of course. I shall put in rather a larger crew 
than a whaleback usually carries — fourteen at least, 
Mr. Pepper added ; ‘‘ to handle the cargoes I shall 
expect the steamer to recover.” 

‘‘Well, well,” said Caleb, rising; “let’s sleep on it. 
It’s never best to decide on anything too quickly.” 

“ If you’ll take up with my offer,” concluded the 
merchant, rising, too, “ the craft can be made ready, 
and you can get away this day week.” 

“ Let’s think it over,” repeated the old sailor, bound 
not to be hurried into the business ; but. Don went to 
bed so excited by the prospect that it was hours be- 
fore he was able to sleep. 

“ Did a fellow ever have a better chance for fun 
and adventure ? ” was his last thought as he finally 
sank into a fitful slumber. 


CHAPTER XXII 


INTO BAD COMPANY 

Ip I were to follow up my own inclinations I should 
much prefer to stay in the company of Brandon Tarr 
and of his two good friends, the honest, hearty old 
seaman, Caleb Wetherbee, and the jovial, philanthropic 
ship owner, Adoniram Pepper. And I feel sure that 
the reader, too, would much prefer to remain with 
them. 

But, for the sake of better understanding that which 
is to follow, I shall be obliged for a short time to re- 
quest the company of the reader in entirely different 
scenes, and among rather disreputable characters. 

Mr. Alfred Weeks, who had been in receipt of so 
many favors in times past from the firm of Adoniram 
Pepper & Co., is the first person who will receive our 
attention. 

Weeks was an effect of a cause.” He was of the 
slums, his ancestry came from the slums ; he was sim- 
ply, by accident of education (compulsory education, 
by the way) once removed from the usual “ gutter 
snipe ” of the city streets. 

Who his parents were, he could not, for the life of 
him, have told. I do not mean to suggest for an in- 
stant that Weeks was not to be pitied; but that he was 
deserving of pity I deny. He had been saved from 
156 


INTO BAD COMPANY 


157 


the debasing influences of the reform school in his 
youth by a philanthropic gentleman (who might have 
been the twin of Adoniram Pepper), and sent to a 
Western State where he was clothed, fed, and educated 
by a kind hearted farmer, whom he repaid by theft 
and by finally running away. 

Then he went from one thing to another, and from 
place to place, and you may be sure that neither his 
morals nor his habits improved during the progres- 
sion. Finally at twenty five, he drifted back to the 
metropolis, and quickly found his old level again — 
the slums. Here he likewise discovered many of the 
acquaintances of his youth, for he had been a boy of 
twelve when he had been sent West. 

Among these old friends he was known as 
“ Sneaky ’’ (a very appropriate appellation, as we have 
seen), ‘'Alfred Weeks” being the name given him 
by his Western benefactor. The fellow was a most 
accomplished hypocrite and it was by the exercise of 
this attribute that he had obtained the situation as 
Adoniram Pepper’s clerk, and kept it for ten years, 
despite many of his evil deeds coming to the knowl- 
edge of the shipping merchant. 

Not one of the three persons who had been in the 
office that afternoon when his presence in the ward- 
robe was discovered, realized how thoroughly bad at 
heart Weeks was, or how dangerous an enemy they 
had made. Even Caleb Wetherbee did not fully rec- 
ognize it. 

But they had made an enemy, and within twenty- 
four hours that enemy was at work to undermine and 
thwart their plans. 


158 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Weeks had overheard enough of the story of the 
Silver Swan and her valuable cargo to make it an 
easy matter for him to decide on a line of action which 
might lead to his own benefit, as well as to the com- 
passing of his much desired revenge. 

He solaced his wounded feelings the evening after 
his dismissal from the ship owner’s office by a trip to 
his favorite resort — the Bowery Theater — where he 
again drank in the highly colored sentences and ro- 
mantic tableaux of that great drama “ The Bucca- 
neer’s Bride.” Unfortunately, however, he was 
forced to remain standing during the play for obvious 
reasons ; the seats of the theater were not cushioned. 

The next forenoon he adorned himself in the height 
of Bowery style, and strolled down past the scene of 
his former labors and on toward that rendezvous 
known as the New England Hotel. He had his plans 
already mapped out, and the first thing to do was to 
join forces with Jim Leroy d, whom he knew very well 
by reputation, at least, as did a great many others 
among the denizens of lower New York. 

But as he strolled along Water Street he discovered 
something which slightly changed his plans. Perhaps, 
to be exact, I should say that he discovered somebody. 

On the opposite side of the thoroughfare was a 
weazen faced old man, with bowed shoulders, and not 
altogether steady feet. He was dressed in rusty black 
clothes of a pattern far remote from the present day. 

Evidently he was quite confused by his surroundings 
and by the crowd which jostled him on the walk. 

“ What a chance for a ‘ bunco man,’ ” exclaimed the 
festive Alfred, under his breath. “ That’s country. 


INTO BAD COMPANY 


159 


sure enough. I wonder how it ever got here all 
alone/’ and the philanthropic ex-clerk crossed the 
street at once and fell into the old man’s wake. 

Despite his countrified manner, however, there was 
an air of shrewd, suspicious intelligence about the man 
of the rusty habiliments. Fortunately for the success 
of his further plans. Weeks did not seek to accost him 
at once. 

Had he done so he would have aroused the country- 
man’s suspicions. The latter had come warned and 
forearmed against strangers who sought his acquaint- 
ance. 

As they went along, the old man ahead and Weeks 
in the rear, the latter discovered that the countryman 
was seeking for something. He went along slowly, 
with his eyes fixed on the signs on either side, studying 
each new one as it came in view with apparent inter- 
est. 

Finally he stopped on the corner of a cross street 
and looked about him at the rushing, hurried life 
in perplexity. Now was Mr. Week’s chance. 

He strolled slowly along toward the old fellow, the 
only person without an apparent object, in that whole 
multitude. 

As the ex-clerk expected, the countryman accosted 
him. 

‘‘ Say, mister,” he said, in his harsh, cracked voice, 
which rose plainly above the noise of the street, “ kin 
you tell me the whereabouts of the New England Ho- 
tel?” 

Whew ! ” thought Mr. Weeks. “ Pretty shady lo- 


i6o THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

cality for a respectable farmer. Wonder what the old 
fellow wants there? '' 

Then aloud he said: 

I’m going along there myself, sir ; it is several 
blocks yet.” 

■ “ Wal, ’t seems ter me,” snarled the other, taking 
his place by the side of Weeks, “ thet this ’ere street 
hain’t got no end, nor no numbers ter speak of. I 
looked in one o’ them things over at the hotel — a 
d’rectory I b’lieve the clerk called it — but I don’t see 
as it helped me any.” 

It’s pretty hard for a stranger to find his way about 
New York, that’s a fact.” 

The old fellow flashed a sudden look at his com- 
panion, which was not lost on the sly Weeks. The 
farmer had “ read up ” on “ bunco men ” and their 
ways, and expected that the polite stranger would sug- 
gest showing him about the city a little. 

But Weeks didn’t ; he wasn’t that kind. 

Finding that the fellow seemed totally uninterested 
as to whether he found his way about the metropolis 
or not, the countryman gained a little confidence in his 
new acquaintance. 

“ New York streets hain’t much like Providence 
streets,” he said. “ Ye kin find yer way ’round them ; 
but I defy any one ter know whether they’re goin’ 
straight here, or not.” 

Mr. Weeks smiled and nodded, but let the other do 
most of the talking. He went on the principle that 
if you give a fool rope enough he’ll hang him- 
self; and although the old fellow thought himself 
exceedingly shrewd, and took pains to dodge the real 


INTO BAD COMPANY 


i6i 


object of his visit to New York, in seeking to be pleas- 
ant to his new acquaintance he “ gave the whole thing 
dead away,” as the astute Alfred mentally expressed it. 

Ye see,” said the old man. “ Fm down here 
a-lookin for my nevvy, Brandon, who’s run away from 
me.- Nothing’ else would ha’ got me down here right 
in the beginnin’ of the spring work.” 

Weeks started slightly, but otherwise showed no 
signs of special interest; but as the old fellow ran on 
about the terrible state he expected his affairs would 
be in because of his absence, Mr. Alfred Weeks did 
some pretty tall thinking. 

‘‘ Brandon is no common name,” so the ex-clerk 
communed with himself. I bet there hasn’t been two 
Brandons come to New York within the past few 
days — both from Rhode Island, too. 

“ This is the old uncle I heard the young chap 
mention. He’s down here after the boy, eh? But 
I’m betting there’s something else behind it. Now, 
let’s see ; what does he want at the New England Ho- 
tel? 

“ Leroyd, so young Tarr said, had been up to Rhode 
Island to see him.” Weeks thought, continuing his 
train of reasoning. “ Passed himself off to him, at 
least, as old Wetherbee. Oh, Jim’s a keen one, he is! 
Now Leroyd’s at the hotel — at least, he has been. 
What is this old scarecrow going there for? 

“ There’s a great big rat in the toe of this stocking,” 
Mr. Weeks assured himself. “ This uncle is an old 
scamp, that’s my opinion.” (Mr. Weeks knew a 
scamp when he saw one — excepting when he looked 


i62 the quest of the SILVER SWAN 


in the glass.) I’d wager a good deal that he and 
Jim understand each other pretty well.” 

“ Probably Jim has let the old fellow into the fact 
that there’s treasure aboard that brig, hoping to get 
him to back him in an attempt to find it. By the cast 
in the old man’s eye, I reckon he’s always on the 
lookout for the almighty dollar. Now, he and Jim 
are going to try and hitch horses together, I bet. And 
am I in this ? I betcher ! with both feet ! ” 

With this elegant expression, Mr. Weeks drew up 
before the uninviting resort known as the New Eng- 
land Hotel. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


MR. ALFRED WEEKS AT A CERTAIN CONFERENCE 

" Here we are, mister,” said the ex-clerk ; see, 
there’s the sign — New England Hotel. Did you ex- 
pect to find your runaway nephew here ? ” 

“ No-o,” replied old Arad Tarr, eying the place with 
a good deal of disfavor. 

“ See here,” said Weeks slowly, Eve been trying 
to remember whereabouts Eve heard that name ‘ Bran- 
don ’ before. It’s not a common name, you know.” 

“ No, ’taint common. D’ye thing ye’ve seen 
Brandon since he’s been here in New York? He’s 
only been here two days, I reckon,” said old Arad 
eagerly. 

“ Perhaps.” 

Where was he? ” queried the old man. “ Em his 
lawful guardeen, an’ I’m a-goin’ ter hev him back, 
now I tell ye ! ” 

“ Let’s see; his name is Brandon Tarr, isn’t it? ” 

“ That’s it ; that’s it,” Arad declared. 

And he came from Chopmist, Rhode Island? ” 

“ Sartin. You must have seen him, mister.” 

“ I guess I have,” said Weeks reflectively. “ He 
was the son of a Captain Horace Tarr, lost at sea on 
the Silver Swan not long ago, eh ? ” 

163 


i 64 the quest of THE SILVER SWAN 


‘‘ The very feller ! ” cried Arad, with manifest de- 
light. 

“ Then I guess I can help you find him,” declared 
Weeks cheerfully. “ Let's go inside and Til tell you 
how I happened to run across him. It’s not a very 
nice looking place, this isn’t ; but they know me here, 
and it won’t be safe for them to treat any of my friends 
crooked.” 

The old man, who had forgotten all about bunco 
men and their ilk in his anxiety to recover his nephew, 
followed him into the bar room. The place was but 
poorly patronized at this hour of the day, and with a 
nod to Brady, who, his face adorned with a most beau- 
tiful black eye, was behind the bar. Weeks led the 
way to an empty table in the further corner. 

“ What’ll you an’ your friend hev ter drink ? ” in- 
quired Mr. Brady, with an atrocious grin, 

“ Oh, a bottle of sarsaparilla,” responded Weeks 
carelessly, and when the bull necked bar keeper had 
brought it, the ex-clerk paid for the refreshment him- 
self. 

Old Arad had looked rather scared at the appear- 
ance of the bottle. His mind at once reverted to the 
stories he had read in the local paper at home (which 
paper he had borrowed from a neighbor, by the way) 
of countrymen being decoyed into dens in New York 
and treated to drugged liquor. 

But as Weeks allowed the bottle to stand on the 
table between them untouched throughout their con- 
ference, the old man felt easier in his mind. 

‘‘Ye say ye’ve seen Brandon?” inquired Arad, 


A CERTAIN CONFERENCE 165 

when Jack Brady had returned to his position behind 
the bar, and there was nobody within earshot. 

Yes. I’ll tell you how it was. You see, Mr. 
Tarr — that’s your name, isn’t it ? — I have a posi- 
tion in a shipping merchant’s office as clerk. The 
office is — er — closed today, so I am out. This 
office is that of Adoniram Pepper & Co. Ever hear 
of them ? ” 

Old Arad shook his head negatively. 

“ Pepper was a great friend of this Brandon’s 
father, so I understand.” 

“ Mebbe,” snarled the farmer. Cap’n Tarr’s 
friends warn’t my friends.” 

“No? Well, your nephew steered straight for 
Pepper’s office, and I believe that he’s staying at the 
old man’s house now — he and a man by the name of 
Caleb Wetherbee.” 

“Caleb Wetherbee? Gracious Peter!” ejaculated 
the old man. “ Hez he found him so soon.” 

Mr. Weeks nodded briefly. 

“ This Wetherbee was mate of the Silver Swan.” 

“ That’s the man,” muttered Arad hopelessly. 

“ I take it you didn’t want your nephew and this 
Wetherbee to meet?” suggested Weeks shrewdly. 

“No — o well, I dunno. I — I’m erfraid 

’twont be so easy to git Brandon back ter the 
farm ef he’s found this mate.” 

“ Perhaps we can fix it up,” said Weeks cheerfully. 

“D’ye think so?” 

“ Let’s see ; are you his legal guardian ? ” 

“Yes, I be,” declared Arad savagely; “ on’y the 
papers ain’t made aout.” 


i66 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


“ I don’t really see, then, how you can bring it about 
until you are appointed,” said Mr. Weeks slowly. 

“ I jest kin!” asserted Arad, with confidence. I 
gotter warrant here for him.” 

“ Whew 1 ” The astute Weeks looked at the old sin- 
ner admiringly. “ Well, well I you are a smart one. 
What’s the charge ? ” 

“ Robbing me,” responded the old man. “ The day 
he run away he took ’most fifty dollars outer a — a 
beury droor. Dretful bad boy is that Brandon.” 

“ Yes, I should think so. Well, with that warrant 
I should think you had him pretty straight.” 

“ D’ye think I kin find him all right? ” asked Arad 
anxiously. 

“ If you can’t, I can,” responded Weeks. “ I know 
where to put my hand on him.” 

At that moment a door at the rear of the room 
(within a few feet of the table at which they were 
seated, in fact) opened, and a man entered. Weeks 
recognized him at once as Jim Leroy d ; he had seen 
him before, although he could claim no speaking ac- 
quaintance with him. 

Old Arad also saw and recognized the new comer, 
and as the sailor passed along the room, he caught 
sight of the old farmer. 

“ Why, dash my toplights ! ” he exclaimed, in sur- 
prise. “ Ef here ain’t Mr. Tarr ! ” 

He stepped back to the table and grasped the 
old man’s hand most cordially, at the same time cast- 
ing a suspicious glance at Weeks. He knew the ex- 
clerk by reputation, as Weeks knew him. 

Don’t ye be up ter any funny biz with this gen- 


A CERTAIN CONFERENCE i6r 

tleman, Sneaky,” he said, with a scowl. “ He’s my 
friend.” 

‘'Don’t you fret,” responded Weeks. “He and I 
were talking about his nephew, Brandon Tarr, who 
was up to see you yesterday ” 

Mr. Leroyd uttered a volley of choice profanity 
at this, and Arad was greatly surprised. 

“ Came ter see yeou ? ” he gasped. “ Er — erbout 
that matter we was a-talkin’ of, Mr. Leroyd? Ye 
know I — I’m his legal guardeen ” 

“ Don’t ye be scared, Mr. Tarr,” said Weeks, who' 
understood the circumstances pretty well, “ I can vouch 
for Jim, here, not playing you false.” 

“What do you know about it, anyway?” growled 
Jim uglily. 

“ Now, sit down and keep cool, Leroyd,” urged 
Weeks. “ I know all about it. I know about your 
little scheme to gobble the — the treasure aboard the 
Silver Swan ” 

“ Sh ! ” exclaimed Leroyd fiercely. “ You know too 
much, young feller.” 

“ No, I know just enough, and I’ll prove it to you.”' 

“ I s’pose ye think ye kin force yer way inter this,, 
but ye’re mistaken. This is the private affair o’ Mr. 
Tarr an’ me, an’ I warn ye ter keep yer nose out.” 

He arose as he spoke, his fierce eyes fixed threat- 
eningly upon Weeks’ impassive face. 

“ You come with me, Mr. Tarr, where we can talk 
the matter over privately. We don’t want nothin’ o’’ 
that swab.” 

The red headed ex-clerk fairly laughed aloud at 
this. 


i68 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

See here, Leroyd,” he said, still coolly : you made 
a break for those papers yesterday, I believe. What 
did you get ? ’’ 

Hey ? ” roared the sailor. 

“ I said that you made a break for those papers of 
Cale Wetherbee’s yesterday,” repeated Weeks, slowly 
and distinctly. '‘Now, what did you get?” 

“ Not a blamed thing,” responded the sailor frankly, 
after an instant’s hesitation. 

“ That’s what I thought. I thought Cale Wether- 
bee took it altogether too coolly if you had made a 
haul worth anything. Now, I could tell you some- 
thing, if I thought ’twould be worth my while.” 

“What is it?” 

“ Do you know what the treasure hidden aboard 
the brig consists of? ” 

“ No,” replied Leroyd shortly, while old Arad gazed 
from one to the other in bewilderment. 

“ Well, I do,” declared Weeks. 

“Ye do?” 

“ Sure. I heard that Wetherbee and the boy and 
old man Pepper talking it over.” 

“ Who’s Pepper ? ” growled Leroyd. 

“ He’s the feller who is going to back ’em in this 
hunt for the brig. He’s going to furnish the vessel 
and all.” 

“ Curses on the luck ! ” growled the sailor again. 

Here old Arad interposed. The old man’s hands 
were trembling violently, and his face was pale with 
excitement. 

“We — we must stop ’em — they ain’t got no right 
ter do it,” he sputtered. “ Horace Tarr was my nevvy. 


A CERTAIN CONFERENCE 169 

an’ I’m the guardeen o’ that boy. There hain’t no- 
body else got no right to go arter them di’monds.” 

“ Diamonds ! ” exclaimed Leroyd. Is that the 
treasure ? ” 

'‘Ye — es,” replied Arad hesitatingly, looking at 
Weeks. “I — I found a letter from this Wetherbee, 
the mate of the Silver Swan, an’ it says so. Horace’s 
brother Anson got ’em in South Afriky.” 

“Good for you, old feller,” said Leroyd admiringly. 
“Ye did take my advice, didn’t ye? ” 

Old Arad rubbed his hands together as though 
washing them with imaginary soap, and grinned. 

“ Yes, diamonds is the treasure,” Weeks rejoined 
calmly. “ Now, you’ll start right off To find the brig 
with Mr. Tarr here to back you with money, eh, 
Leroyd?” 

“ Never ye mind what I’ll do,” returned Jim, uglily. 
“ I tell ye this hain’t none o’ your funeral, so you keep 
out of it, Sneaky.” 

“Are you sure?” asked Weeks, with a tantalizing 
smile. 

“Yes, I’m sure!” roared the enraged sailor. 

“ Well, don’t holler so loud,” the red haired one 
admonished him. “ But I think you’re mistaken.” 

Leroyd glared at him like an angry bull dog but 
said nothing. 

“ Now I s’pose,” continued Weeks, cocking his eye 
at the smoke begrimmed ceiling of the bar room, 
“ that you expect to get a vessel an’ go in pursuit of 
the Silver Swan; and that when you’ve got her you’ll 
tow her in port, an’ you’ll have the salvage — that’ll 
be a pretty good sum.” 


170 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


“ And the di’monds,” interjected Arad, with an ava- 
ricious chuckle. 

“Oh, will you?” said Weeks with cool sarcasm. 
“ That remains to be seen. You’ll have the brig fast 
•enough ; but how’ll you get the stones ? ” 

“ Why, ef we git the brig won’t the diamonds be 
aboard her?” queried Arad. 

“ Yes, they will; but where will they he, aboard her? 
Can you tell me that ? ” 

Arad’s jaw fell and he stared blankly at the shrewd 
Weeks. Even Leroyd was visibly moved by this 
statement. 

“ You don’t know where the diamonds are hidden,” 
continued Weeks, pursuing his advantage. “ You 
might tear that whole brig to pieces an’ not find ’em, 
hut I know just where they are and I can put my 
hand right on 'em!” 

“ You kin? ” gasped old Arad. 

“ Is that straight. Sneaky ? ” demanded Leroyd, with 
interest. 

Weeks nodded calmly. 

“ I believe you’re lying,” the sailor declared. 

“ W^ell you can think so if you want to,” said the 
ex-clerk, rising, “ and I’ll go now and find somebody 
to go in with me on this scheme, and I’ll run my 
chances of getting to the brig first. You can have the 
old hulk and welcome after I’ve been aboard her five 
minutes, Leroyd. 

“ But, if you’ll let me in on the ground floor of this,” 
he continued, “ and give me one third of all there is 
in it, why all right. If you don’t, probably you’ll get 
nothing, while me and the other fellow’ll get it all” 
and Mr. Weeks smiled benignantly upon his audience. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


HOW A NEFARIOUS COMPACT WAS FORMED 

“ But yeou can’t do that ! ” cried old Arad Tarr, 
the first to break the silence after Mr. Weeks had de- 
livered what might be termed his ultimatum.” 
“ There hain’t anybody got airy right ter go arter them 
diamonds, but them I send.” 

“ That is where you make an error, Mr. Tarr,” re- 
sponded Weeks cheerfully. “ This is what is called 
‘ treasure trove ; ’ the fellow who gets there first has 
the best right to it.” 

“ It ben’t so, is it ? ” whined the old man, appealing 
to Leroyd. 

Yes, I s’pose it is,” admitted the sailor, with a 
growl. “He’s got us foul, old man.” 

“ Now, don’t talk that way, Leroyd,” exclaimed 
Weeks briskly. “We three must strike hands and share 
evenly in this thing. You need me, any way, though 
I can get along without either of you; for you know 
it wouldn’t take me long to find a man to back me 
with a couple of hundred dollars against the chance 
of winning thousands.” 

“ Well, you’re right,” said the sailor, seeing that it 
would be for his advantage to make terms with 
“ Sneaky AI,” as the red haired Weeks was familiarly 
called. 


172 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


“ Two hundred dollars is an awful lot of money ter 
risk,” muttered old Arad, knowing that he was the 
one who would be expected to furnish the “ sinews of 
war.” 

‘‘ Tain’t much compared with mebbe three hundred 
thousand dollars. I heered Cap’n Tarr say, myself, 
that there was enough o’ them diamonds, ter make a 
man fabulously rich,” responded Leroyd quickly. 
“ That’d be a clean hundred thousand for each of us.” 

“ But ef I furnish the money I’d oughter hev more 
o’ th’ returns,” declared the farmer, who was quite 
as sharp as either of his companions. 

“ Come, we won’t quarrel over that,” the sailor de- 
clared, rising again. But we want to talk this mat- 
ter over where it’s more quiet like. I’ve got a room 
here. Let’s go up to it, where we shan’t be dis- 
turbed.” 

“ Now you’re talking sense,” Weeks declared, ris- 
ing gingerly from the chair in which he had again 
seated himself. 

At that instant Mr. Brady, who had been kept busy 
at the bar by transient customers for the past half 
hour, called Leroyd over to him. 

“ Now, look a-here, Jim,” he said, in a hoarse aside, 
wot be you an’ Sneaky A1 up to ? Dere ain’t goin’ 
ter be no game played on dat countryman here, see? 
Ye got me inter ’nough trouble yest’day. Ef I hadn’t 
a pull in dis ward, dey’d er — nabbed me, sure.” 

” Don’t you fret. Jack,” responded Leroyd reassur- 
ingly. “ We ain’t inter any bunco business. The old 
man knows what he's about, ef he does look like a hay- 
seed. Ef he don’t do ns, it’ll be lucky.” 


A NEFARIOUS COMPACT 


173 


‘'Well, whaCs de game?'’ Brady demanded. 

" Never you mind, old man. We’re just going up 
stairs for a private confab, an’ ef things turn out right, 
I kin promise a cool hundred for keeping your mouth 
shut. Savey?” 

Brady nodded. 

" I’m mum,” he said, with satisfaction. " On’y I 
don’t want dem cops down on me ag’in, so mind yer 
eye.” 

Armed with a bottle and glasses, Leroyd led the way 
into a small room a good deal nearer the roof of the 
building, in which the New England Hotel was lo- 
cated. His two companions, however, left the sailor 
to dispose of the refreshments alone ; the old farmer 
because he had never used liquor in any shape at home, 
and Weeks because he proposed to keep his brain per- 
fectly clear that he might be sure to retain the “ whip 
hand ” of the other conspirators. 

It is not my purpose to report verbatim the plans of 
the three villains. Let it suffice to say that after much 
discussion, and by virtue of coaxings, threatenings, 
promises, and what not, the sailor and Weeks (who 
saw at once that it would be for their mutual advan- 
tage to play into each other’s hands) obtained old 
Arad Tarr’s consent to furnish them with the sum of 
over two hundred dollars (and more if it was found 
to be actually needed) with which to charter the 
vessel. 

You may be sure that the two rascals never worked 
harder (with their tongues) for two hundred dollars 
in their lives, for the amount looked as large to old 
Arad as ten thousand would to almost any other man. 


174 the quest of THE SILVER SWAN. . 


The plot of the conspirators likewise included the 
discovery of Brandon’s whereabouts and his arrest on 
the charge of robbery, as set forth in the warrant 
with which Arad supplied himself before he left 
Rhode Island. This part of the scheme .Weeks pro- 
posed to attend to. 

Then, with a great deal of flourish and legal for- 
mula, the astute Mr. Weeks drew up a most wonder- 
ful document (he was well versed in legal phrases) ^ 
which bound each of the three, Arad Tarr, James Le- 
roy d, and Alfred Weeks, to a co-partnership, the ob- 
ject of which was to seek and obtain the floating hulk 
of the Silver Swan, and the treasure thereon, the profit 
of the venture to be divided equally between them, 
excepting the sum of one thousand dollars which was 
to go to Arad Tarr under any circumstances. And, 
of course, the document wasn’t worth the paper on 
which it was written. 

But the old man didn’t know this. He was a great 
worshiper of the law, and he trusted in the legality of 
the paper to hold his partners to their promises. He 
lost sight, however, of the fact that the two men were 
going together on the quest for the Silver Swan, and 
that he — well, he was to stay at home, and wait. 
Waiting isn’t very hard work, to be sure; but it is 
terribly wearing. 

These several things having been accomplished, and 
it being long past noon, the conspirators went their 
different ways — old Arad to interview the brokerage 
firm of Bensell, Bensell & Marsden, which, he was 
sure, was cheating him out of his dividends : Weeks 
to hunt up a scaly friend of his to serve the warrant 


A NEFARIOUS COMPACT 


175 


upon unsuspicious Brandon ; and Leroyd to look about 
for a vessel which could be converted to their purpose 
in the shortest possible time. 

And now, let us return to Brandon and his two 
good friends, Caleb Wetherbee and Adoniram Pepper, 
and find out how much progress they have made in the 
quest of the Silver Swan. 


CHAPTER XXV 


UNCLE ARAD MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT 

If Caleb Wetherbee passed as sleepless a night as 
did his young friend, Brandon, he showed no signs 
of it when he appeared the next morning. They were 
a very jolly party indeed at the breakfast table, for 
the old sailor had recovered, to some extent at least, 
his equanimity when in the presence of Miss Frances. 

“ Now, Caleb, have you decided to accept my offer 
of last evening ? ” Adoniram inquired, as they arose 
after the meal. 

“ Let’s see the steamer,” returned the sailor, non- 
committally ; so the merchant and his two guests went 
down to the docks at once. 

To a person who has never seen a whaleback 
steamer, the first view of one is certainly a most sur- 
prising sight. He is at once reminded of Jules Verne’s 
great story of the Nautilus, the wonderful steel ship 
which could sail equally well below and upon the 
surface of the ocean. 

Number Three was more than two hundred feet in 
length, and was shaped like a huge cigar, the blunt 
end, oddly enough, being the bow. This blunt “ nose ” 
is what suggested the term “ pig,” as applied to the 
whalebacks when first they appeared on the Great 
Lakes. 


176 


UNCLE ARAD MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT 177 


At the forward end of the steamer a turret arose 
from the curved deck, furnished with one of the 
American Ship Windlass Co.’s steam windlasses (with 
the capstan above), and with hand steering gear, the 
shaft and hub of the wheel being of brass to avoid 
affecting the compass. 

The cabin aft, which was fifteen feet above the 
deck, and therefore presented a most astonishing ap- 
pearance, was supported by two turrets, and several 
strong ventilating pipes, the latter connecting with the 
engine room, fire hold, and cargo hold. 

A low rail ran from bow to stern of the steamer, 
on either side, inclosing the turrets within its shelter, 
thus making it possible for the crew to go from the 
aft to the forward turrets. 

The deck, however, was so curved that the feat 
would not be easy to perform in rough weather, if 
the whaleback did roll as do other vessels. 

'' Ye call that a steamer, do ye ? ” demanded Caleb, 
in disgust, when he first caught sight of Number 
Three; but after he had gone aboard, and seen and 
understood the advantages the whaleback possessed 
over the other seagoing craft, he no longer scoffed. 

Adoniram first led them to the officers’ quarters. 
These were finished in oak, and furnished almost as 
sumptuously as the cabin of a fancy yacht. The suite 
contained a dining room of comfortable size, and a 
chart room and offices on the port side of the cabin. 

Below deck were the quarters of the crew, forward 
and aft, and they were as comfortable as those on a 
palatial ocean steamship. 


178 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


It’s a wonderful boat,” Brandon declared, as they 
examined the engine. 

It is that,” the ship owner assented. I paid a 
pretty penny for her, but she’s worth it — every cent. 
She’ll outride any gale that ever blew, as long as you 
keep her in deep water. ’Twould be hard to sink her. 

‘‘ In the matter of ballast,” he continued, “ there are 
arrangements for carrying eight hundred ton of water 
— water is used altogether for ballast in these whale- 
backs. Then the engines are of the newest build, too, 
you see. 

“ The steam is generated from these two steel 
boilers, each eleven and a half feet in diameter by the 
same in length, possessing a working pressure of one 
hundred and twenty-five pounds. If the engine goes 
back on you, you will have to get out the oars and 
row ashore, for there is no chance for raising a sail,” 
and the jolly ship owner laughed good naturedly. 

“ Well, I’ve been to sea on a good many craft — 
most anything that would float, in fact, from a tor- 
pedo boat to a Chinese junk — but this takes the bun,” 
Caleb declared as they stepped upon the dock again. 

“ Then I take it you’ll try your hand at this ? 
Adoniram asked slily. 

Oh, yes, I s’ppose so, Pepperpod — and the boy, 
too. By the way, does Lawrence Coffin know any- 
thing about this craft ? ” 

“ He went to West Superior (where she was builty 
and came down in her,” declared the merchant. 

“ It’s all right, then. He’ll know what to do if we 
get to sea and the blamed thing should roll over.” 

But despite the fact that he scoffed at the vessel. 


UNCLE ARAD MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT 179 


Caleb set to work with his customary energy to make 
ready for the voyage. 

The ship owner gave him carte blanche to provision 
the whaleback and secure the crew. The engineers 
and firemen were already engaged and the work of 
making ready for sea went on rapidly. 

Caleb being a worker himself, expected a good deal 
of everybody about him and Brandon found himself 
with plenty to do during the next two days. He ran 
errands, and bought provisions under the old sailor’s 
directions, and saw to the storing away of the articles 
purchased. 

On the morning of the third ray, however, came 
an interruption, and one which promised to be most 
serious. 

In these times of hurried preparation Caleb and his 
young second mate made the Water Street office of 
Adoniram Pepper & Co. their headquarters. They 
were in and out of the place a score of times a day to 
the satisfaction of Adoniram, but, if the truth were 
told, to the great annoyance of the solemn faced young 
man whom Mr. Marks had sent up from the other 
office to take the place of the departed Weeks. 

About ten o’clock on this forenoon Brandon ran in 
to see if he could find Caleb, as that individual was not 
at the dock where lay the whaleback, and where the 
boy had expected to meet him. 

“ Where do you suppose he has gone ? ” Don asked 
of Mr. Pepper, who, good soul, seemed to have no 
other business on hand but the getting ready of the 
steamer. 

“ I don’t know, I’m sure. You’d better sit down. 


i8o THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

my boy, and wait for him,’’ advised Adoniram kindly. 

He’s sure to turn up here, first or last.” 

So Brandon sat down, striving to stifle his impa- 
tience. He had not waited ten minutes, however, 
when the door of the outer office was opened, and 
somebody entered. 

“ Here he is now,” exclaimed the youth, thinking he 
heard Caleb’s voice. 

He threw open the door between the two offices, 
gave one glance into the apartment beyond, and stag- 
gered to the nearest chair in utter amazement. 

“ Great Peter ! it’s Uncle Arad ! ” he gasped, in 
answer to Adoniram’s questioning exclamation, and 
the next instant Uncle Arad himself appeared at the 
open portal of the private office. 

‘‘ Thar ye air, ye young reskil ! ” exclaimed the old 
man, shaking his bony fore-finger at the youth. 

Behind him was another man — a clean shaven, 
foxy looking fellow, who, when old Arad had pointed 
the boy out, stepped quickly into the room. 

“ Well, well ! ” exclaimed Brandon, recovering in 
part from his surprise. “ Who’d have thought of 
seeing you here. Uncle Arad I ” 

“ Not yeou, I warrant ! ” cackled the old man shrilly. 
“ I s’pose ye thought ye c’d git off scott free with yer 
ill gotten gains, didn’t ye ? ” 

What?” 

Brandon’s face flamed up redly, and he sprang to 
his feet in rage. 

“ What do you mean ? ” he demanded. 

Don’t ye let him escape, officer ! ” the farmer ex- 
claimed, shrinking back. “ He’s quick’s a cat.” 


UNCLE ARAD MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT i8i 

But here Adoniram took a hand in the proceedings. 

I should like to know, sir, what you mean by 
this ? ’’ he said, his gray eyes flashing behind the tip 
tilted eye glasses. '' Brandon is under my care, sir, and 
I will not allow such remarks to be addressed to him.’’ 

No one would have believed that it was the jolly 
Adoniram, to see his face now. The habitual smile 
had disappeared entirely. 

“ I dunno who yeou be,” Arad replied defiantly ; 

but I kin tell ye who I be, purty quick. I’m Arad 
Tarr; this young reskil here is my nevvy; an’ I’m his 
nateral an’ lawful guardeen.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Mr. Pepper, with quiet sarcasm. “ So 
you are his guardian, are you ? How long since ? ” 

“ How long since ? ” repeated the old man, in a 
rage. “ I’ll show ye ! I’ve alius been his guardeen 
— leastways, since his pa died.” 

“ Which occurred a little over two months ago,” 
said Adoniram briefly. “ Now, Mr. Tarr, for I sup- 
pose that is your name, where are your papers making 
you this lad’s guardian ? Who appointed you ? ” 

“ I’m his nateral guardeen now,” old Arad declared 
slowly ; ‘‘ but I’m goin’ to be ’p’inted by the court.” 

What court?” 

“ The Court o’ Probate, o’ Scituate, R. I.,’ responded 
the farmer pompously. 

Well, I think not,” said Adoniram, who was prob- 
ably never more angry in his life than at that moment. 
'' You have made a slight mistake, Mr. Tarr.” 

Hey ? ” returned the farmer, growing red in the 
face, and looking daggers at the little merchant. 

I say you have made a slight mistake. You will 


i 82 the quest of the SILVER SWAN 

not be appointed guardian of Brandon, by any court 
in the land. Did it ever occur to you that Captain 
Horace Tarr might have made a will? 

“ A will ? ” gasped the old man. 

“ Yes, sir, a will.” 

“ But he didn’t hev nothin’ ter will, ’ceptin ” 

“ V^ell, excepting what ? ” Mr. Pepper demanded, as 
the other hesitated. 

‘‘ Nothin’.” 

“ Well, he did have something to will, and he ap- 
pointed me joint guardian, with another gentleman, 
and you, Mr. Tarr, are not the party named to assist 
me. We have alreadv made application in the New 
York courts to have the appointment allowed and the 
will has been presented for probate.” 

“I — I don’t believe it ! ” shouted Arad. 

“ You’re not obliged to. But that doesn’t affect 
the facts of the case, just the same.” 

For a moment the farmer was quite nonplussed : 
but then he looked at the man he had brought with 
him again, and his faith revived. 

‘'Ye can’t escape me this way, ye young varmint! ” 
he exclaimed, turning upon Brandon as though he 
were some way at fault for the wrecking of his plans. 

Mebbe I hain’t your guardeen, but I’ve powef 
^nough right here ter lug ye back ter Scituate an’ put 
yer through fur stealin’ that money.” 

“ What money ? ” demanded Brandon, white with 
rage. “ To what do you refer? ” 

“ That fifty dollars ye stole f ’om me — that’s what 
I mean,” old Arad declared. “ Th’ money ye stoled 
f’om my beury droor. I gotter warrant right here fur 
ye, ’n’ this officer ter serve it ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVI 


CALEB WETHERBEE OBSTRUCTS THE COURSE OF THE LAW 

Brandon was fairly paralyzed by Uncle Arad’s an- 
nouncement. He had realized that the old man was 
sorely disappointed at his inability to keep him on the 
farm. He had not, however, believed he would follow 
him clear to New York, and hatch up such a scheme as 
this to get him again in his power. 

‘‘You old scoundrel!” he exclaimed, too enraged 
for the moment to remember that he was speaking to 
a man whose age, if not his character, should command 
his respect. 

'' Hush, Don,” commanded Adoniram Pepper ad- 
monishingly. ‘‘ It will not better matters to vituper- 
ate. Mr. Tarr,” he added, turning to the farmer, “ do 
you realize what a serious charge you have made 
against your nephew ? ” 

I reckon I do,” Arad declared with vigor. I 
got it all down here on er warrant — Squire Holt 
made it aout hisself. I’m er-goin’ ter hev that boy 
arrested for burglarizing me. Now you go erhead, 
Mr. Officer, an’ arrest him.” 

“ Wait a moment,” and Adoniram stepped quickly 
in front of Don before the foxy looking man could lay 
his hand upon the boy’s shoulder. 

183 


i 84 the quest of THE SILVER SWAN 

Let me see that warrant? ” he said. 

The officer passed the paper over with a flourish, 
and Adoniram examined it closely. 

“ Why,” he exclaimed, shortly, this is returnable 
to the Rhode Island courts.” 

“ Of course it is,” snarled old Arad. 

But do you propose taking the boy back to Rhode 
Island?” 

Yes, I do.” 

But can’t this be settled here, officer ? ” asked 
Adoniram nervously, knowing that any such delay as 
this would ruin their plans for an early start after the 
Silver Swan. 

“ No, sir ; the robbery was committed in Rhode 
Island — it must be tried there,” replied the officer, 
with a crafty smile. 

Adoniram handed the warrant back in utter be- 
wilderment; but at that juncture the door opened 
again, and Caleb Wetherbee himself stumped in. 

“ Hey ! what’s this ? ” the old seaman demanded, 
seeing instantly that something was up. 

Old Arad tried to shrink out of sight behind the 
officer’s back as he viewed Caleb’s fear inspiring pro- 
portions. 

“ This is my dear Uncle Arad, Caleb,” Brandon 
hastened to say, “ and he has come all the way from 
Rhode Island to arrest me and ta^ce me back.” 

“ For what? ” cried Caleb, aghast. 

“ For robbing him; so he says. Isn’t he kind?” 

Brandon was fairly furious, but he trusted in the 
old seaman to get him out of his relative’s clutches. 

“ Robbing him ! 


THE COURSE OF THE LAW 


185 


Caleb’s face grew red with rage. 

What d’ye mean, ye old scamp ? ” 

** He hes robbed me,” Arad shrieked. 

** See here,” Caleb said coolly, “ this looks to me like 
petty persecution, don’t it to you, ’Doniram ? I reckon 
the courts would see it that way, too.” 

The courts’ll send that reskil ter the State reform 
school — that’s what they’ll do,” Arad declared. 

'' So it’s locking him up you’re after, eh ? ” returned 
Caleb. “ Now, Brandon, don’t you worry about this. 
We kin have it fixed up in no time.” 

But the boy’s got to be taken to Rhode Island,” 
exclaimed Adoniram. It will be a matter of weeks.” 

“ Weeks? ” roared Caleb. Why, the steamer sails 
Tuesday. He can’t go.” 

‘T guess, mister, that you won’t have much to do 
with it,” remarked the man with the warrant officious- 
ly. “ This warrant is returnable to the Rhode Island 
courts, and to Rhode Island he must go. If the boy 
had wanted to go on a voyage he shouldn’t have stolen 
the money.” 

Caleb actually roared at this and shook his huge fist 
in the fellow’s face. Adoniram hastened to keep the 
peace. 

‘‘How do we know you are an officer?” he de- 
manded sternly. “ This is a most atrocious action on 
Mr. Tarr’s part, and for all we know you may be 
party to it.” 

The officer smiled slily, and throwing back his coat 
showed his badge. 

“ I’m a dep’ty sherifiF an’ don’t you fear,” he said. 

The boy must come along.” 


i86 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

But as he reached out to clutch Don, the big sailor 
seized the youth and whirled him in behind him, plac- 
ing himself between the officer and his prisoner. 

“ Don’t be too fast,” he said. 

Do you dare resist arrest ? ” the officer demanded 
angrily. 

“ Nobody’s resisted you, yet. ” 

His huge bulk, however, barred all approach to 
Don, who was now between all the others and the 
outer door. 

*‘If you arrest this boy you’ll seriously inconven- 
ience our plans, an’ we’ll make you sweat for it, now 
I tell ye.” 

“ I don’t care ; I’m er — goin’ ter hev him took up ! ” 
shrieked old Arad, to whom all this delay was ago- 
nizing. 

‘‘You shut that trap of yours ! ” roared Caleb, turn- 
ing upon the old man in a fury. “ Don’t ye dare open 
it ag’in w’ile ye’re here, or there’ll be an assault case 
in court, too.” 

Old Arad dodged back out of range of the sailor’s 
brawny fist with great celerity. 

“ Do don’t ye let him tetch me, officer,” he im- 

plored, jerking his bandanna from the pocket of his 
shiny old black coat, and wiping his face nervously. 

With the handkerchief came forth a letter which fell 
at Mr. Pepper’s feet ; but for the moment nobody but 
the merchant himself saw it. 

Brandon, who was directly behind the seaman, 
leaned forward and whispered something in Caleb’s 
€ar. The old seaman’s face lit up in an instant, and 
he changed his position so that his burly form com- 


THE COURSE OF THE LAW 187 

pletely blocked the doorway leading into the outer 
office. 

So you won’t settle this thing out o’ court, eh ? 
he demanded. 

The officer shook his head. 

It’s gone too far,” he said. 

'' It has, hey ? ” Caleb exclaimed in wrath. WelC 
so’ve you gone too far.” Then he exclaimed, turn- 
ing to Don : “ Leg it, lad ! We’ll outwit the land- 
lubber yet.” 

Hi ! stop him ! stop him ! ” shrieked Uncle Arad, 
for at the instant Caleb had spoken, Don had 
darted back to the street door and thrown it open. 

Good by. Uncle Arad ! ” the captain’s son cried 
mockingly. I’ll see you when I’ve returned from 
the West Indies.” 

He was out in a moment, and the door slammed be- 
hind him. 

The deputy sheriff sprang forward to follow, but 
Caleb managed to get his wooden leg in the way, and 
the officer measured his length on the office floor, while 
Uncle Arad, fairly wild with rage, danced up and 
down, and shrieked for the police. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


WHEREIN BRANDON TARR CONCEALS HIMSELF 

The doughty deputy sheriff was on his feet in an 
instant, and with a wrathy glance at Caleb, dashed out 
of the office after the fleeing Brandon. If he did not 
make the arrest he would fail to get his money, and 
he did not propose to lose that. 

But Uncle Arad could not get to the door without 
passing Caleb and he hardly dared do that. Just 
then the big seaman looked in no mood to be tampered 
w^th. The farmer, however, did sputter out some- 
thing about having the law on everybody in general. 

“ Bring on all the law you want to, you old scare- 
crow,” responded Caleb, vigorously mopping his face. 
“ I reckon we kin take care of it. What ye got there, 
Adoniram ? ” 

Mr. Pepper had picked up the letter which had 
fallen from old Arad’s pocket, and was looking at the 
superscription in a puzzled manner. 

Arad caught sight of the epistle as quickly as did 
Caleb. 

“ That’s mine ! give it here ! ” he cried, making a 
snatch at the paper. 

But Adoniram held it out of his reach. 

“ I don’t see how you make that out, Mr. Tarr,” he 
said quietly. “ This letter is not addressed to you. 

i88 


BRANDON TARR CONCEALS HIMSELF 189 


It is in your handwriting, Caleb, and is addressed to 
* Master Brandon Tarr, Chopmist, Rhode Island/ ” 

'' Oh, you swab ! ’’ exclaimed the old tar, with a 
withering glance of contempt at old Arad, as he seized 
the letter. “ This ’ere’s what I wrote the boy w'en 
I was in the hospital — w’ich same he never got. 
Now, how came you by it? You old land shark!” 

Arad was undeniably frightened. Although he 
might explain the fact of his opening Don’s letter as 
eminently proper, to himself, he well knew that he 
could not make these friends of his nephew see it in 
the same light. 

“I — I — it came arter Brandon went away,” he 
gasped in excuse. 

‘‘ It did, hey ? ” exclaimed Caleb suspiciously. 

Mr. Pepper took the envelope again and examined 
the postmark critically. 

Hum — um,” he said slowly, postmarked in New 
York on the third; received on the afternoon of the 
fourth at the Chopmist post office. I’m afraid, my 
dear sir, that that yarn won’t wash.” 

Uncle Arad was speechless, and looked from one 
to the other of the stern faced men in doubt. 

‘‘ He — he was my nevvy ; didn’t I hev a right ter 
see what he had written ter him ? ” 

“ You can bet ye didn’t,” Caleb declared with con- 
fidence, and with a slight wink at Adoniram. ‘‘ Let 
me tell ye, Mr. Tarr, that openin’ other folks’ corre- 
spondence is actionable, as the lawyers say. I reckon 
that you’ve laid yourself li’ble to gettin’ arrested your- 
self, old man.” 

Ye — ye can’t do it,” sputtered Arad. 


m THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


If that monkey of a sheriff finds Brandon (w’ich 
same I reckon he won’t), we’ll see if we can’t give 
you a taste of the same medicine.” 

The old man was undeniably frightened and edged 
towards the door. 

I guess I better go,” he remarked hesitatingly. 

I dunno as that officer’ll be able ter ketch thet res- 
kil.” 

No, I don’t b’lieve he will myself,” Caleb declared. 

And if you want to keep your own skin whole, you’d 
best see that he doesn’t touch the lad.” 

Old Arad slunk out without another word, and the 
two friends allowed him to depart in contemptuous 
silence. 

When he had disappeared Adoniram turned to the 
sailor at once. 

‘‘ Where has Don gone, Caleb ? ” he asked anxiously. 

“ You’ve got me. He told me he was goin’ to skip, 
and for us to go ahead with the preparations for get- 
ting off next week, just the same. He’d lay low till 
the old scamp had given it up, and then slip aboard 
the steamer. Oh, the boy’s all right.” 

“He is, if that sheriff doesn’t find him,” said the 
merchant doubtfully. 

“ I’ll risk that,” responded Caleb, who had vast con- 
fidence in Brandon’s ability to take care of himself. 

But Adoniram shook his head. 

“ New York is a bad place for a boy to be alone in. 
Where will he go?” 

“ Down to the pier, I reckon, and hide aboard the 
steamer. I’ll agree to put him away there so that no 
measly faced sheriff like that fellow can find him.” 


BRANDON TARR CONCEALS HIMSELF 191 


“ It’s a bad business,” declared Mr. Pepper, shaking* 
Lis head slowly. ” If he hadn’t run ofl there might 
have been some way of fixing it up so that he wouldn’t 
have had to go back to Rhode Island, and thus delay 
the sailing of the steamer. We might have scared the 
uncle out of prosecuting him. He was badly fright- 
ened as it was.” 

Caleb gazed at his friend for several moments with 
a quizzical smile upon his face. 

“ Do you know, Adoniram,” he .said at length, I 
b’lieve you’re too innocent for this wicked world.” 

How do you mean ? ” asked the merchant, flush- 
ing a little, yet smiling. 

Well, you don’t seem to see anvthing fishy in all 
this.” 

Fishy?” 

“ Yes, fishy,” returned Caleb, sitting down and 
speaking confidentially. Several things make me be- 
lieve that you (and me, too) haven’t been half awake 
in this business.” 

I certainly do not understand you,” declared 
Adoniram. 

“ Weil, give me a chance to explain, will you? ” said 
the sailor impatiently. “ You seem to think that this 
old land shark of an uncle of the boy’s is just trying to 
get him back on the farm, and has hatched up this 
robbery business for that purpose? I don’t suppose 
you think Don stole any money from him, do you ? ” 
he added. 

“Not for an instant!” the merchant replied em- 
phatically. 

“ That’s what I thought. Well, as I say, you sup- 


192 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

pose he wants Brandon back on the farm — wants his 
work, in fact?’' 

“ Ye — es.” 

Well, did it ever strike you, ’Doniram,” Caleb 
pursued, with a smile of superiority on his face — 
did it ever strike you that if he was successful in 
proving Brandon guilty, the boy would be locked up 
and then nobody would get his valuable services — 
nobody except the State ? ” 

Why, that’s so.” 

Of course it’s so.” 

“ Then, what is his object in persecuting the poor 
lad? Is he doing it just out of spite? ” 

“Now, see here; does that look reasonable? Do 
you think for a moment that an old codger like him — 
stingy as they make ’em — d’ye think he’d go ter the 
expense o’ comin ’way down here to New York out 
of revenge simply? Well, I guess not! ” 

“ Then, what is he up to ? ” demanded Adoniram, 
in bewilderment. 

“ Well, of that Fm not sure, of course ; but,” said 
Caleb, with vehemence, “ I’m willing to risk my 
hull advance that he’s onter this di’mond business. 

“ Why, Pepper, how could he help being ? Didn’t 
he get that letter of mine, an’ didn’t I give the hull 
thing away in it, like the blamed idiot I was? Man 
alive, a sharper like that feller would sell his im- 
mortal soul for a silver dollar. What wouldn’t he da 
for a big stake like this ? ” 

“ But — ” began Adoniram. 

“ Hold on a minute and let me finish,” urged Caleb. 
“ That scoundrel Leroyd was up to Chopmist, mind ye. 


BRANDON TARR CONCEALS HIMSELF 19^ 


Y/ho knows but what he an’ old Arad Tarr have 
hitched bosses and gone inter this together ? I haven’t 
^ told either you or Brandon, for I didn’t want to worry 
you, but I learned yesterday that Jim is tryin’ ter char- 
ter a craft of some kind — you an’ I know what for. 

“ He’s got no money; what rascal of a sailor ever 
has ? He must have backing, then. And who is more 
likely to be the backer than the old sharper who’s 
just gone out of here! I tell ye, ’Doniram, they're 
after them diamonds, and it behooves us ter git up an’ 
dust if we want ter beat ’em.” 

The ship owner shook his head unconvinced. 

“You may be right, of course, Caleb; I don’t say 
it is an impossibility. But it strikes me that your 
conclusions are rather far fetched. They are not 
reasonable.” 

“ Well, we’ll see,” responded the old seaman, purs- 
ing up his lips. “ I shall miss Brandon’s help — a 
handier lad I never see — but he will have to lay low 
till after the whaleback sails.” 

He went back to the work of getting the steamer 
ready for departure, expecting every hour that Bran- 
don would appear. But the captain’s son did not 
show up that day, nor the next. 

Monday came and Number Three was all ready for 
sailing. Her crew of twenty men, beside the officers, 
were aboard. 

The first and third mates were likewise present, the 
former, Mr. Coffin, being a tall, shrewd looking, pleas- 
ant faced man, who eternally chewed on the end of a 
cigar (except when eating or sleeping) although he 
was never seen to light one ; and Mr. Bolin, the third. 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


194 


a keen, alert little man who looked hardly older than 
Brandon himself. 

But Brandon did not come. The new captain of 
the whaleback, and the owner himself, were greatly 
worried by the boy’s continued absence. 

They had already set on foot inquiry for the youth’s 
whereabouts, but nothing had come of it. 

They did discover that Uncle Arad had gone back 
to Rhode Island, and gone back alone. The ‘‘ scaly ” 
ward politician who held the onerous position of 
deputy sheriff, and who had sought to arrest the boy,, 
had not been successful, Brandon’s friends knew, 
for the man haunted the pier at which the whaleback 
lay, day and night. 

“If he don’t come tonight, Adoniram,” Caleb de- 
clared, “ we shall sail in the morning, just the same — 
arid that by the first streak of light, too. You will be 
here, and I can trust you to look out for the lad. I 
must be away after those di’monds. Don’ll turn up 
all right, I know right well; and we mustn’t let them 
swabs get ahead of us, and reach the brig first.” 

He had taken the precaution ere this to have his own 
and Brandon’s effects brought down to the boat. He 
was ready, in fact, to cast off and steam away from 
the dock at a moment’s notice. 

As the evening approached Caleb ordered the fires 
Tuilt under the boilers, and everything to be made 
ready for instant departure. Adoniram Pepper came 
down after dinner and remained in the whaleback’s 
cabin, hoping to see Brandon once again before the 
steamer sailed. 

Caleb was too anxious to keep still at all, but 


BRANDON TARR CONCEALS HIMSELF 19 ^ 


tramped back and forth, occasionally making trips to 
the wheelman’s turret in which he had stationed Mn 
Coffin and one of the sailors, so as to have no delay 
in starting, no matter what should happen. 

“ By Jove, this beats blockade running at Savannah 
in the sixties,” muttered the first mate, after one of his 
commander’s anxious trips to the forward turret to see 
that all was right. This youngster they’re taking 
all this trouble for must be a most remarkable boy.” 

“ There’s two fellows watching the steamer from 
the wharf,” Caleb declared, entering the cabin again. 

Just then there was a sound outside, and a heavy* 
knock sounded at the cabin door. Caleb pulled it 
open in an instant. 

Without stood three burly police officers. 

“ Well, well ! ” exclaimed Mr. Pepper, in wonder. 

‘‘ What do you want? ” Caleb demanded, inclined to 
be a little combative. 

‘‘ Beg pardon, sir,” said the spokesman of the two, 
nodding respectfully to Mr. Pepper, “ but we’ve been 
sent to search the steamer for a boy against whom 
this man holds a warrant,” and the officer motioned to 
a third individual who stood without. It was the 
deputy sheriff. 

Very well,” said Mr. Pepper quietly. 

Search and be hanged,” growled Caleb, glowering 
at the man with the warrant. “ If you can find him 
you’ll have better luck than we.” 

He refused to assist them in any way, however, and 
Mr. Bolin politely showed the party over the whole 
steamer. But of course, they found not a sign of 
Brandon. 


196 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

After nearly an hour’s search the officers gave it 
up and departed, Caleb hurling after them several 
sarcastic remarks about their supposed intellectual 
accomplishments — or rather, their lack of such ac- 
complishments. 

The deputy sheriff, whose name was Snaggs, by the 
way, would not give it up, however, but still remained 
on the wharf. 

Mr. Coffin, who had begun to take a lively interest 
in the proceedings, was pacing the inclined deck of 
the whaleback on the side furtherest from the pier, 
a few minutes past midnight (everybody on board 
was still awake at even this late hour) when his ear 
caught the sound of a gentle splash in the black wa- 
ters just below him. 

He stopped instantly and leaned over the rail. 

“ Hist ! ” whispered a voice out of the darkness. 

Toss me a rope. I want to come aboard.” 

Mr. Coffin was not a man to show his emotions, 
and therefore, without a word, he dropped the end of 
a bit of cable into the water, just where he could see 
the faint outlines of the owner of the voice. 

Hidden by the wheelhouse from the view of any- 
body who might be on the wharf, he assisted the per- 
son aboard, and in a minute the mysterious visitor 
stood upon the iron plates at Mr. Coffin’s side. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


THE DEPARTURE OF THE WHALEBACK, NUMBER THREE 

No emergency was ever too great for Lawrence 
Coffin. The appearance of the stranger whom he had 
lifted over the rail to the steamer’s deck may have 
surprised him ; but he gave no visible sign. 

The instant the fellow was on his feet, Mr. Coffin 
slid open the door of the wheelhouse and pushed the 
newcomer in. 

“Jackson,” he said sharply, to the man inside, “go 
for Captain Wetherbee.” 

Then he turned to the dripping figure that stood 
just within the door of the turret. 

The stranger was a youth of fifteen or sixteen, with 
a sharp, intelligent face, and his saturated clothing 
was little more than rags. 

“ Hullo ! ” said the mate, “ you're not Brandon 
Tarr, I take it.” 

“ You kin bet on that, mister,” responded the youth 
grinning. “An’ you,' I reckon, ain’t Cale Wetherbee. 
He’s got a wooden leg.” 

“ I’ve sent for Mr. Wetherbee,” replied Mr. Coffin. 
“ What do you want ? ” 

“ I’ll tell th’ boss, wot I was told ter see,” declared 
the fellow shrewdly. 

The youth was, evidently of ’ that great class of indi- 
197 


198 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


viduals known as street gamins ” who, in New York 
City, are numbered by the thousand. 

He was thin and muscular, quick in his movements, 
and his eyes were shifty and uneasy, not from any 
lack of frankness or honesty, perhaps, but because 
his mode of life forced him to be ever on the watch for 
what might “ happen next.” 

Mr. Coffin had hardly made this mental inventory 
of the fellow, when Caleb, accompanied by Mr. Pep- 
per, came forward. The strange youth evidently rec- 
ognized the captain of the whaleback at once as the 
individual he wished to see. 

“ You’re Captain Wetherbee,” he said quickly fum- 
bling in the inside of his coarse flannel shirt (the shirt 
and trousers were all he had on) “I got somethin’ 
fur you from Brandon Tarr.” 

“ Where is he ? ” cried Mr. Pepper, in great excite- 
ment. 

“ He’s gone to sea, boss,” responded the boy calmly. 

“ Hey ! ” roared Caleb, and then the messenger 
brought forth that which he was fumbling for — a 
little waterproof matchbox. 

“ Gone to sea ? ” repeated Adoniram, in bewilder- 
ment. 

“ Dat’s it,” said the boy. '' He went day Tore 
yest’day mornin’ in de Success.” 

But Caleb had opened the matchbox and drawn 
forth the folded paper it contained. 

“ It’s a letter — the young rascal ! Why didn’t he 
come himself? ” 

“ Didn’t I tell ye he’d gone ter sea? ” demanded the 
youth in disgust. 


WHALEBACK, NUMBER THREE 


199 


Listen to this/’ exclaimed Caleb, paying not the 
least attention to the messenger’s words, and he read 
the closely written page aloud : 

'‘Dear Caleb — Swivel is going to make a break with this 
letter for me, although the Success sails, we understand, in 
an hour or two. He can tell you how I came aboard here, so 
I won’t stop to do that. 

“ What I want to say is, that Leroyd is aboard and that the 
brig will touch at Savannah for Mr. Pepper’s old clerk, Mr. 
Weeks, who is in the plot to find the Silver Swan, too. I 
shall leave her at Savannah if it is a possibility. 

“ If you get into Savannah while she is there, however, and 
I don’t appear, try to find some way of getting me out. I’m 
afraid of Leroyd — or, that is, I should be if he knew I was 
here. 

“ I’ve got enough to eat and drink to last me a long time 
and am comfortable. I can make another raid on the pantry, 
too, if I run short. 

“ Look out for Swivel ; he’s a good fellow. He can tell 
you all that I would like to, if space and time did not forbid. 

“ Yours sincerely, 

“ Brandon Tarr. 

“ P. S. We’ll beat these scamps and get the Silver Swan 
yet.” 

'' Well, well ! ” commented Mr. Pepper, in amaze- 
ment. “ What will that boy do next ? ” 

The young rascal ! ” Caleb exclaimed in vexation. 

What does he mean by cutting up such didoes as 
this? Aboard the very vessel the scoundrels have 
chartered, hey ? ” 

“ But how did he get there ? ” cried Adoniram won- 
deringly. 

This young man ought to be able to tell that,” 
suggested Mr. Coffin, referring to the dripping youth. 

Caleb looked from the open letter to the boy. 


200 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

“ So you’re Swivel, eh ? ” he demanded. 

The lad grinned and nodded. 

Well, suppose you explain this mystery.” 

But here Adoniram interposed. 

“ Let us take him to the cabin, and give him some- 
thing dry to put on. He’ll catch his death of cold 
here.” 

‘‘ ’Nough said. Come on,” said Caleb leading the 
way. 

Fifteen minutes later the youth who rejoiced in the 
name of Swivel was inside of warm and dry garments, 
several sizes too large for him, and was telling his 
story to a most appreciative audience. 

I will not give it in detail, and in Swivel’s bad gram- 
mar; a less rambling account will suffice. 

When Brandon Tarr had made his rapid retreat 
from the office of Adoniram Pepper and Co. he had 
run across the street, dodged around the first corner, 
and then walked hastily up town. He determined to 
keep away from the office for the remainder of the 
day, hoping to tire out both Uncle Arad and the deputy 
sheriff. 

Finally he took a car and rode over to Brooklyn, 
and it was there that he fell in with Swivel, who was a 
veritable street gamin — a “ wharf-rat ” even — though 
a good hearted and not an altogether bad principled 
one. 

It being a time in the day when there were no pa- 
pers to sell. Swivel (wherever the boy got the name 
lie didn’t know, and it would have been hard to trace 
Its origin) was blacking boots, and while he shined 
JBrandon’s the two boys scraped up an acquaintance. 


WHALEBACK, NUMBER THREE 


201 


Fearing that Uncle Arad or the officer, or perhaps 
both, would be on the watch about the shipping mer- 
chant’s office, or the steamer dock, Brandon decided 
that Swivel would be a good one to have along with 
him to send ahead as “ scout,” and for a small sum the 
gamin agreed. 

Brandon was a country boy, and was unfamiliar 
with city ways or city conveniences. It never crossed 
his mind to use the telephone communicating with his 
friends, and Swivel knew very little about telephones, 
any way. 

So they waited until toward evening and then 
came back to New York. 

Water Street and its vicinity, and the docks, were 
as familiar to Swivel as were the lanes and woods 
of Chopmist to Brandon. By devious ways the gamin 
led the captain’s son to the ship owner’s office, but it 
was quite dark by that time and the place was closed. 

So they went to the pier at which the whaleback 
lay, and here Swivel showed that he was of great use 
to Brandon, for had it not been for him, his employer 
would have run straight into a trap. The deputy 
sheriff, Snaggs, was watching the steamer, and no 
less a person than Mr. Alfred Weeks himself, was 
talking with him. 

By careful maneuvering the two boys got into a po- 
sition from which they could hear some of the conver- 
sation of the two rascals; but the way to the steamer 
was right under Snaggs’ eye, and Brandon dared not 
attempt it. 

By intently listening, the captain’s son heard several 
important items of news, and, greatly to his astonish- 


202 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


ment, discovered that Uncle Arad, Leroyd, and Mr. 
Weeks himself were playing right into each other’s 
hands, and that their object was to keep Brandon 
from getting back to his friends, and thus delay the 
sailing of the whaleback so that the craft on which the 
plotters expected to sail might get away first. 

Snaggs was to keep a sharp lookout from the shore- 
ward side of the whaleback and there was already a 
man in a boat patroling the riverside that Brandon 
might not return from that direction, and a third per- 
son was “ shadowing ” Adoniram Pepper’s residence. 
The ship owner’s office would be watched during the 
day. 

As soon as Brandon made his appearance he was to 
be seized at once on the strength of the Rhode Island 
warrant and sent back to Chopmist. This, the con- 
spirators hoped, would keep Caleb Wetherbee from 
sailing for several weeks, and by that time Leroyd 
and the ex-clerk expected to overhaul the Silver Swan 
— that is, this is what Weeks and Leroyd themselves 
were planning to do; but the former took care to say 
nothing about the Silver Swan to the deputy sheriff. 

Finding that there was no chance to get aboard the 
whaleback just then, and having heard Weeks say that 
he was going to meet Leroyd and that they two were 
to go that night and see the vessel and her commander, 
Brandon decided to follow them, and find out the name 
of the craft and where she lay, believing that the infor- 
mation would be of value to himself and to his friends. 

Piloted by Swivel, Brandon followed “ Sneaky A1 ” 
to the New England Hotel and while the ex-clerk 
went inside for Leroyd the two boys waited without. 


203 


WHALEBACK, NUMBER THREE 

and then took up the trail again when the two conspir- 
ators appeared. 

The sailor and Weeks went over to Brooklyn and 
after two hours’ dodging and running and hiding, they 
tracked the rascals to the brig Success, lying at a 
Brooklyn wharf. 

Brandon decided that it would never do to be so 
near and not hear the plans the villains made with the 
captain of the Success, so he rashly crept aboard and 
listened to the conversation at the cabin skylight. And 
this was when he got into trouble. 

He heard the two plotters agree with the captain 
of the vessel (who was not in the scheme at all) to pay 
two hundred dollars for six week’s use of the brig, 
providing the Success put to sea at once. 

She already had a very fair cargo for Savannah, 
and the agreement was that she should put in at that 
port for the time necessary for the cargo to be landed. 

Thus, of course, the captain, who was the owner as 
well, was going to make a very good thing out of it, 
indeed. He asked no questions as to what use the brig 
was to be put to; and he agreed to allow Leroyd to 
accompany him to Savannah, where Weeks would 
meet them. 

Brandon made a shrewd guess that the ex-clerk was 
to remain in New York until he was certain of his 
capture and incarceration; then he would reach Sa- 
vannah by steamer. 

It was quite evident that the two rascals had man- 
aged to “ boil ” more money out of old Arad Tarr than 
they had first expected, and could afford to be more 
lavish with their funds. 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


But, as I said, the boys, by venturing aboard the 
Success, got into trouble. Somebody came aft while 
they were listening to the conference below, and to 
escape discovery, they dodged down the after hatch. 

The crew of the Success were already aboard, and 
the two men who constituted the “ anchor watch ” 
remained near the open hatchway (the other hatches 
were battened down), and the two boys were unable 
to leave the hold. 

Morning came, and found them still there. The 
cargo was nearly all in, and the crew went to work 
to finish the lading by daylight. Brandon and Swivel 
retreated into the bows of the vessel, and managed to 
remain hidden all day. 

They did not dare leave the hold, although they 
suffered extremely from lack of food and water, for 
Leroyd had come aboard to superintend the work, and 
would have seen them. 

At evening the hatches were battened down, and the 
unintentional stowaways were left in darkness. But 
Swivel, who a shrewd and sharp eyed lad, had noticed 
a small door in the cabin bulkhead by which the cook 
doubtless entered the hold for provisions from time to 
time. 

With their pocket knives they forced the fastenings 
of this door and Swivel made a raid into the pantry, 
which was left unguarded, and returned laden with 
provisions enough to last them a week if need be. He 
secured a big “ beaker ” of water, too. 

Brandon also discovered the ship’s provisions stored 
near the bows, and was sure that he could stand a 
siege. 


WHALEBACK, NUMBER THREE 


205 


Leroyd, they ascertained, hardly ever left the cabin 
or deck of the Success, and Brandon dared not ven- 
ture out. At last, after talking the whole matter over. 
Swivel agreed to take the risk of giving himself up 
as a stowaway, and thus get put ashore before the 
brig started. 

Then he was to make his way to the whaleback and 
explain Brandon’s situation to Caleb. 

The captain’s son wrote his letter and placed it 
in the matchbox, which Swivel in turn had hidden 
in the breast of his shirt. Then the gamin pounded 
on the hatch until the crew heard him and let him out. 

Naturally the captain of the Success was angry 
enough, for the brig was already to sail, and they were 
getting the lines cast off, so he summoned a night 
watchman from the dock, who took the unlucky Swivel 
in charge and handed him over to a policeman. 

This was a phase of the situation which neither of 
the boys had considered. But there was no way out 
of it, and the gamin spent the day in the police sta- 
tion, for it was Sunday. 

He was brought before the magistrate the next 
morning, but of course there was nobody to appear 
against him, so he was discharged with a reprimand. 
The police captain, however, kept him busy about the 
station until late in the afternoon, before he would let 
him go. 

“ He kep’ me jugglin’ wid er mop er wipin’ up de 
floor,” as the gamin expressed it to his hearers. 

As soon as he was free he had hurried to the New 
York side ; but upon reaching the vicinity of the whale- 


2o6 the quest of the SILVER SWAN 


back he discovered that the “ patrol line ” was drawn 
even closer than before. 

Snaggs and two of his friends were on duty, for as 
the time approached for the sailing, they decided 
that if Brandon came back he would do so very soon. 

Swivel had seen the raid the policemen made under 
the deputy’s instigation, and after the bluecoats were 
safely out of the way, he had slipped into the water 
and made for the steamer. 

“ An’ here I is,” he said, in conclusion. Dey 
didn’t ketch me, nor dat Brandon Tarr, nuther. We’s 
too fly for ’em.” 

“ Of all the scrapes I ever heard of, this is the 
worst,” Adoniram exclaimed in comment. 

But Caleb, now that his fears for Don’s safety were 
somewhat allayed, seemed rather to enjoy the situa- 
tion. 

‘‘ Oh, that boy’s smart,” he declared, with a chuckle. 
‘‘ I’ll risk him even if he is in that vessel’s hold. Le- 
royd won’t get the best of him. Probably, too, the 
captain of the Success is not a bad sort of a fellow, 
an’ he won’t see the boy maltreated. 

“ I feel better, ’Doniram, and with your permission 
we’ll get under way at once.” 

“But what shall we do with this lad?” asked the 
little merchant, nodding and smiling at Swivel. “ He’s 
deserving of much praise for his honesty and faithful- 
ness.” 

“ Oh, take me along, will yer ? ” exclaimed the 
gamin, with eagerness. “ I’ll work hard ef ye will i 
I jest wanter see dis thing out, I do! I like dat 
Brandon Tarr, an’ I wanter see him git the di’monts 


WHALEBACK, NUMBER THREE 


207 


wot he said was on dat wreck yer arter. Say, lemme 
go, will yer ? ” 

Caleb looked at the ship owner in perplexity. 

“ Oh, take him, Caleb,’^ said Adoniram quickly. 
‘‘ It may be the making of the lad to get him oif the 
city streets. He deserves it.” 

“ So be it then,” said Caleb, rising. ‘‘ Now, Mr. 
Coffin and Mr. Bolin — to work ! You’ll have to go 
ashore at once, Adoniram. I shall have Number 
Three out of her berth in half an hour.” 

Steam was got up, the crew flew about their several 
duties under the energetic commands of the officers, 
and within a short time the whaleback, to the mani- 
fest disappointment of Mr. Snaggs, who watched pro- 
ceedings from the shadow of the wharf, cast off her 
lines and steamed down the bay into the darkness of 
the night. 

, Thus did she begin the voyage whose object was the 
finding of the wreck of the Silver Swan. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE STOWAWAY ABOARD THE SUCCESS 

As we know, Brandon Tarr had no intention of re- 
maining long away from his friends when he slipped 
out of Adoniram Pepper’s office to escape arrest on 
the fraudulent charge of robbery, concocted by Uncle 
Arad. 

The events which followed, however, made it neces- 
sary for him to remain away, and, finally, to go to 
sea as a stowaway in the hold of the Success, the ves- 
sel chartered by the conspirators to make search for 
the Silver Swan. 

After the friendly street gamin. Swivel, left him in 
the hold, in the early hours of Sunday morning, Bran- 
don of course had no means of knowing what had be- 
come of him — whether he had accomplished his pur- 
pose of getting away from the brig before she sailed, 
or whether, because she was short handed, the cap- 
tain of the Success had retained him. 

After Swivel was let up on deck, and the hatch 
closed, however, Brandon heard nothing further, ex- 
cept the heavy tramping of the sailors, the creaking of 
the ropes, and the hoarse roars of command from the 
officers. 

The work of getting the Success away from the 
dock went rapidly on. 


208 


THE STOWAWAY ABOARD THE SUCCESS 209 


Quite fortunately for the stowaway, the hold of the 
Success was little more than two thirds filled with 
Savannah goods. In the bows, beside a great many 
bags and boxes and barrels of provisions for the use 
of the crew, there were likewise spare sails, cordage, 
etc. 

It would be a very easy matter indeed for him to 
hide among the stuff if any one came into the hold. 

The scent of bilge water was not at all strong, for 
the Success was a comparatively new vessel and had 
evidently been recently pumped out. 

Brandor judged her to be about the size of the 
Silver Swan, much the same sort of craft in fact, and, 
like his father’s vessel, the Success was a “ tramp.” 

It was night — or at least a gloomy twilight — at 
all times in the hold ; but Brandon thought that it was 
surely daylight by the time the brig was under way. 

She was taken down the river by a fussy little steam 
tug and then, meeting the swells of the Atlantic, and 
a brisk gale springing up, she shook out her sails and 
dropped the tug astern. 

Brandon was fearful that he might be sick, for he 
had never really been to sea and the brig pitched not 
a little in the waves of the ocean. 

To reduce the possibility of this misfortune to a 
minimum, he ate but sparingly the first day or two 
out, and by that time all “ squeamish ” feelings passed 
away. 

It was dreadfully dull in the dark hold, however. 
Of food and water he had a sufficiency, although the 
latter was warm and brackish; but there was abso- 
lutely nothing for him to do to pass away the time. 


210 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


There was not even the spice of danger about his situ- 
ation, for nobody came into the hold. 

He dared not explore much at first, for he was 
afraid that he might be heard from the cabin or fore- 
castle. 

During a slight blow which came up the fourth day, 
however, while the spars and cordage were creaking 
so that all other sounds were drowned, he felt per- 
fectly safe in moving about. If he could not hear 
what went on outside, nobody outside would be likely 
to hear him. 

On this day, however, he received several tumbles, 
for the ship occasionally pitched so suddenly that he 
was carried completely off his feet. Nothing worse 
happened to him, though, than the barking of his el- 
bows and knees. 

Gaining confidence in his ability to get around with- 
out being discovered, he changed his position more 
frequently after this. The weather remained fair for 
some time following this small blow, and Brandon 
hung about the cabin bulkhead, striving to hear more 
of Leroyd’s plans, if possible. 

It was plain that the captain of the brig knew noth- 
ing of the real plans of the conspirators. They had 
told him what they pleased, and he was to ask no ques- 
tions. 

It was not long, however, before the stowaway dis- 
covered something which was quite a surprise to him. 
There was a woman on board the brig; he heard the 
rustle of her garments, and occasionally the tones of a 
female voice. 

At first he thought her to be the captain’s wife, but 


THE STOWAWAY ABOARD THE SUCCESS 211 


because of the youthfulness of her tones and some 
words which the captain addressed to her, he changed 
this opinion, and decided that she was his daughter. 

Brandon was quite interested in her, for a girl on 
a sailing vessel was certainly a novelty. He was sure 
she must be a “ jolly one,’’ as he expressed it, to sail 
with her father on a merchantman. Not many girls 
would have the pluck to do that. 

As the days passed by, and the Success fled on be- 
fore the favoring gales, drawing nearer and nearer to 
Savannah, Brandon became correspondingly worried 
over the obstructions to a safe escape from the brig, 
which were presented to his mind. 

Once the brig reached port and the hatches were 
opened, it would be all day ” with him. Nothing 
but a miracle would save him from falling into the 
hands of Jim Leroyd, and he didn’t like to think of. 
that. 

He had good reason to believe that the rascally 
sailor would not hesitate to injure him in any way 
possible. 

Naturally his mind reverted to the trap in the cabin 
bulkhead by which Swivel had gained access to the 
cook’s galley, as a possible means of escape before the 
hatches were removed. If the brig reached Savannah 
late in the day, doubtless the hatches would remain 
battened down till the next morning. In that case 
the trap might be his salvation. 

Several times during the voyage the steward, some- 
times with a seaman with him, entered the hold by 
this door, for something among the stores. At such 


212 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


times Brandon laid low ” and his presence was not 
discovered. 

What little food he had purloined from the stores 
was not noticed either. 

Therefore, as the brig drew nearer to her destina- 
tion Brandon set about studying the topography of 
the cabin — its entrances and exits — and how he 
could best pass through it and reach the deck without 
attracting the attention of anybody on board. 

All this scouting had to be done at night, of course, 
and many were his narrow escapes while engaged in 
this most perilous undertaking. 

“ Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” was the motto 
of the Tarrs, father and son. In Captain Tarr’s case, 
and in that of his brother Anson, it had been, as a 
usual thing, a good deal of venture and little gain. 

The same motive, however, was predominant in 
Brandon’s nature, and he took many risks in thus 
scouting about the brig’s cabin that almost any other 
boy would not have taken. 

One night he had cautiously set the narrow door 
leading into the steward’s pantry ajar, and sat just 
under it in the darkness of the hold, trying to discover 
if all but the officers, excepting the one in command 
of the watch, had turned in. 

There was a light in the outer cabin, but he could 
not see into the room from where he sat, and he dared 
not enter the pantry until he was sure that the cabin 
was unoccupied. Occasionally a sound of low con- 
versation would reach his ears from the deck, but 
otherwise all was still. 

“ I believe I’ll risk it,” he declared, after remaining 





“i’m a stowaway, i’ve been in the hold ever since we left 

NEW YORK” 

The Quest of the Silver Swan 





THE STOWAWAY ABOARD THE SUCCESS 213 


in a listening attitude for nearly half an hour. “ I 
need water badly — my throat is well nigh parched — 
and if I could learn whether the lamp was usually left 
turned up like that, whether the cabin was empty or 
not, I might know better how to act when I do try to 
escape.” 

Finally he crawled through the opening and crept 
softly to the cabin door. The apartment was empty 
— or it appeared to be — although there was a chair 
drawn up to the table, and some books lay there as 
though having been in recent use. 

Guess Fd better not stay,” thought the stowaway 
nervously. But I must have a drink.” 

He turned back into the cook’s galley, and took 
a deep draught from a bucket he found there. Just 
as he was about to leave the place he was electrified 
by hearing a voice say, 

“ What are you doing here ? ” 

Brandon wheeled about like a flash. There framed 
by the cabin doorway was a young girl — the girl 
whose voice he had heard more than once since his 
incarceration in the hold of the Success — the captain’s 
daughter ! 

“ Who are you ? What do you want ! ” she re- 
peated, eying him fearlessly, though with a puzzled 
expression of countenance. “ I never remember hav- 
ing seen you before.” 

Brandon was suddenly conscious that his long cap- 
tivity in the vessel’s hold had not improved his per- 
sonal appearance, and with his feeling of fright at 
being discovered, there was also considerable vexation, 
at being seen in such a plight by a lady. 


-214 the quest of the silver swan 

The girl was bright looking and intelligent, with 
a face which attracted the boy greatly ; in fact, he was 
almost tempted to believe that he had seen her some- 
where, so familiar did she appear. 

Dressed in a simple blue flannel yachting suit, trim- 
med with white braid, which set off her plump figure 
to great advantage, she was a pleasing picture. 

“ Why don’t you answer me ? ” she demanded in 
vexation, as Brandon continued silent. 

Sh ! don’t give me away,” begged the boy, taking 
a step nearer. “ I’m a stowaway, I’ve been in the 
hold ever since we left New York.” 

‘‘ Another stowaway ! ” she exclaimed, but in a lower 
tone. “ Why father found one just before we left 
port.” 

“ I know it,” returned Brandon. “ He was with 
me. What did they do with him?” 

“ Father gave him into the hands of the police,” 
replied the girl gravely. “ He’s very hard on stow- 
aways. Why did you get into the hold ? ” 

“ Because I had to ; yes, I did — actually had to,” 
declared Brandon, in a whisper. “ I can’t tell you 
the whole story now ; but I will some time. I haven’t 
done anything wrong — excepting taking a few pro- 
visions from the ship’s stores. Those I will pay you 
for now,” and he took his purse from the pocket of 
his stained and ragged coat. 

“ No, no ! ” cried the girl, drawing back, “ I do not 
want your money.” 

“ Then I shall leave it, as I first intended, on the 
cabin table when we get to Savannah.” 


THE STOWAWAY ABOARD THE SUCCESS 215 


“ But the men will find you when we get in, even 
if I don’t tell father.” 

“ I hope not,” Brandon replied, so earnestly that 
the captain’s daughter looked at him curiously. 

“ Is there anybody aboard whom you fear ? ” she 
asked shrewdly. 

“Yes, there is. It is that evil looking man — the 
one who has chartered the brig — Jim Leroyd.” 

“ He ! ” she exclaimed, in surprise. Then after a 
little silence she added: 

“ He is an evil looking man ; I’ve told father so 
more than once, but he says that a man is not always 
as bad as he looks. Father has seen so many people 
and so much of the world, that I seldom question his 
judgment; but I have been impressed from the first 
that there was something wrong about him — and 
about that Mr. Weeks, who is in partnership with 
him, and whom we expect to meet at Savannah. 

“It is a strange thing — this searching for a dere- 
lict brig — any way. I tell father that there is some- 
thing wrong back of it.” 

“ There is,” Brandon declared. “ I don’t dare tell 
you about it now. You won’t let anybody know I’m 
here, will you ? ” 

“ No — o. I’ll promise that. It wasn’t right to stow 
yourself away aboard the brig, but you look honest — 
although you are awfully dirty and ragged,” said this 
most plain spoken young lady. 

“ I know it ; I look terribly,” whispered Don, creep- 
ing through the door into the hold again. Then he 
turned about and asked, “ What is your name, please ? 

“Milly Frank.” 


2i6 the quest of the SILVER SWAN 


Thank you ; and mine is Brandon Tarr. Some 
time I can explain all this to you, and you will see 
that I did the only thing I could in stowing myself 
away here.” 

“But how do you expect to get out?” 

“ I hope we’ll get to port in the night. If we do, 
then I’ll try to slip out through the cabin.” 

“ Somebody will catch you.” 

“ I hope not.” 

“ We-ell, I hope, not, too,” said Miss Milly frankly. 
“ I don’t suppose it is just right, but I’ll try to help 
you. If I see a chance for you to get away I’ll come 
to this door and knock — see, like this.” 

She knocked twice in succession, but lightly, so that 
nobody might hear her but the stowaway. 

“ Thank you — thank you ! ” murmured the boy, 
and then he shut the trap quickly, for a heavy step 
sounded from the cabin without. 

Somebody had come down from the deck — proba- 
bly the officer of the watch. 


CHAPTER XXX 


SHOWING WHAT MISS MILLY DOES FOR BRANDON 

Brandon crept away from the trap in the bulkhead, 
fearing that at any moment the person who had en- 
tered the outer cabin during his conversation with the 
captain’s daughter, might strive to capture him. He 
was afraid that the person had heard his movements 
in descending into the cargo hold again; but if the 
newcomer did hear anything, Milly evidently con- 
vinced him that there was nothing unusual going on, 
for Brandon was not disturbed. 

Then ensued for the stowaway a period of anxious 
waiting. The very fact that some hope of success- 
ful escape had been held out to him, made the wait- 
ing all the harder to bear. 

Each hour was bringing the Success nearer to Sa- 
vannah, and Brandon remained near the bulkhead all 
the time, so as to miss no communication from his 
fair assistant. 

Miss Milly seemed to really enjoy her secret knowl- 
edge of the stowaway’s presence, and before the Suc- 
cess reached port she several times called him to the 
bulkhead, ostensibly for the purpose of finding out 
if he was all right, and was not going hungry. She 
supplied him with water, too, these last two or three 
217 ^ 


2i8 the quest of the SILVER SWAN 


days, and he no longer had to leave the hold on mid- 
night foraging expeditions. 

“We shall be in this evening — perhaps before dark 
— so father told me last night/’ she whispered to him 
one morning, and Brandon’s heart leaped for joy at 
the information. 

Slowly, indeed, did that day pass. 

The Success was beating up toward Savannah 
against a light head wind, which gave promise of 
becoming an off shore gale before it was through with. 
Fortunately, the brig escaped it, taking a tug about 
the middle of the afternoon, and pulling into her dock 
about dark. 

“Thank Heaven!” was Brandon’s mental ejacula- 
tion, when this information was whispered through 
the crack in the bulkhead door to him, and he was 
indeed devoutly grateful. 

His 'life in the hold from the time of departure 
from New York, had been a continual fever of im- 
patience and doubt, and now that the real danger of 
attempting to escape was at hand, he was rejoiced. 
In a short time he would know whether he was to be 
free, or in Jim Leroy d’s power. 

Milly had informed him that Captain Frank was 
exceedingly hard on all stowaways (as sea captains 
usually are, in fact), and he had no doubt but that he 
would be placed in a very uncomfortable, if not dan- 
gerous, position if the doughty captain should dis- 
cover him. 

Leroyd, of course, would step forward at once and 
declare that he (Brandon) was wanted in New York 
for robbery, and that fact could be proved by tele- 


SHOWING WHAT MISS MILLY DOES 


219 


graphing, should the Savannah officers desire to do 
so. Then, if the whaleback steamer was not in, he 
should be absolutely friendless, and at the mercy of 
the vindictive sailor. 

He lay close up against the door of the bulkhead 
all through the early evening. Some of the crew, he 
judged by what he heard, were allowed to go ashore 
for a few hours, and a part of the officers went with 
them — which officers, however, he could not tell. 

There was both a first and second mate on the Sue- 
cess. 

Brandon had no means of telling the time, but it 
must have been well along towards ten o’clock — per- 
haps later — when he heard the two gentle raps for 
which he had been so anxiously listening. 

“ Are you there, Brandon ? ” whispered the cap- 
tain’s daughter, and as Don pulled the door slightly 
ajar, she seized his hand, and aided him through the 
opening. 

“Is the coast clear?” he asked anxiously. 

“Sh! Yes, father and Mr. Marsh have gone up 
town with some of the men, and Mr. Barry has finally 
gone to bed.” (Mr. Barry was the second officer.) 
“ I was afraid that he’d never stop talking to me. I 
had to fairly freeze him out,” and the merry girl 
laughed softly. 

“But Leroyd?” pursued Brandon. 

“ He’s gone, too.” 

“ To bed?” 

“No; up the street. I hope you can get off the 
brig before any of them get back. Now hurry.” 


220 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


“ You’re a good girl, Miss Milly. I hope I shall 
be able to repay you some time.” 

“ Hush! go along now,” she said, smiling, but push- 
ing him toward the companionway. ‘‘ What’s that 
for ? ” for Brandon had thrust a little wad of bank 
notes into her hand. 

“ It is to pay for the stores I broke into below. 
Take it, and put it where your father will see it. 
Good by.” 

He started up the ladder, but came back again to 
ask, 

“ Is there a steamer in the bay ? Did you get in 
time enough to see ? ” 

“ Lots of them.” 

No, I should have said a whaleback steamer? ” 
What are those — oh, I know what you mean. A 
great long, steel boat, with cabins way up above the 
hull, and no deck to speak of.” 

“ That’s it,” said Brandon eagerly. 

“ Yes, there is one here. I saw it and meant to 
ask father what it was. I thought it was a dredger 
of some kind,” and Milly laughed again gleefully. 

Is that a steamer ? ” 

^'Yes. My friends are aboard her.” 

“ Then you will find them,” she returned delight- 
edly. That funny boat lies not far from our dock. 
Now go, or somebody will catch you.” 

Brandon crept noiselessly up the steps at this com- 
mand, and peered out across the deck. A sailor sat 
on the rail some rods away, but his back was towards 
him ; nobody else was in sight. 

“ Now’s my chance,” muttered Don, and springing 


SHOWING WHAT MISS MILLY DOES 


221 


quickly up the remaining steps, he darted as noise- 
lessly as a shadow across the deck, and leaped upon 
the pier. An instant later he was on the street, and 
slinking along in the shadow of the buildings, hurried 
away from the vicinity. 

He did not know in which direction the “ funny 
boat ” Milly had seen, lay, but went blindly along, his 
only care for the moment being to escape from the 
neighborhood of the Success and from his enemy, 
Jim Leroyd. 

The street he followed kept close to the wharves — 
skirted the waterfront in fact — and he passed many 
sailors ; but he kept in the shadow as much as possible 
and nobody remarked about his apparel or the grime 
on his face and hands. 

Suddenly, as he approached a great pier, where 
several large vessels were lying, he caught sight of 
a familiar figure coming down the street toward him. 
There was no mistaking that rolling, peculiar gait, 
nor the sound of the sharp “ tap, tap of the steel 
shod leg on the wooden pavement. 

It was Caleb Wetherbee ! 

“ Oh, Cale ! '' Brandon almost shouted, and running 
forward fairly threw himself into the sailor’s arms. 

By the jumping Jehosophat!” cried the startled 
Caleb, and then, recognizing the boy, despite his rags 
and dirt, he uttered a loud “ hurrah ! ” which left no 
doubt in Brandon’s mind as to the sailor’s satisfaction 
at seeing him once more. 

But in a moment, he pushed the boy away from 
him and holding him by both shoulders, peered down 
upon him curiously. 


222 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


“ Well, well ! he exclaimed. “ Where in the name 
o’ Davy Jones have you been? Ye look as though 
you’d been stowed away in the hold o’ a coal barge 
for a month.” 

Well, I have been stowed away in a brig’s hold — 
she got in only this evening. I’ve just got away from 
her. Did you get my note by Swivel ? ” 

‘‘ I did, my lad.” 

“ And Swivel himself? ” 

He’s aboard the steamer.” 

“ I’m glad of that,” declared Brandon. I hoped 
you’d be kind to him. He did me a lot of favors, and 
I shan’t be able to repay him for some time to come. 
Now, have you heard anything further from the Silver 
Swan ? ” 

“ I have, my lad, this very afternoon. She was 
sighted two weeks ago by a steamship from Rio to 
New York. Adoniram telegraphed me. But there’s 
something else that ain’t so pleasin’.” 

“ What’s that, Caleb? ” 

“ The Kearsarge has been ordered to destroy sev- 
eral of these derelicts, the Silver Swan included, on 
her way down the coast to Havana. She sails to- 
morrow, I hear.” 

“ Then we haven’t any time to lose,” Brandon ex- 
claimed. ‘‘ Let’s go aboard at once, Cale. The first 
thing I want is a wash — I’m as dirty as a pig — and 
then I’ll tell you the whole story.” 

“ We’ll do so right now,” declared the big captain. 
“ Come on. My boat’s down here. Number Three 
lays off some way.” 

He hurried Brandon down to the dock, and they 


SHOWING WHAT MISS MILLY DOES 


223 


were quickly seated in the steamer’s small boat, and 
the men pulled out to the long, low, odd looking craft, 
which, since her arrival in the bay three days before, 
had attracted an enormous amount of attention. 

“ She sails like a swan, Don,” declared Caleb, who, 
from openly scoffing at the whaleback, had begun 
fairly to worship her. “I never see anything beat it. 
She can outsail any cruiser in the navy, I believe, an’ 
if we don’t reach the Silver Swan in her first, it’s 
because somethin’ busts ! ” with which forcible decla- 
ration he helped the boy over the low rail to the iron 
deck of the steamer. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


WHEREIN NUMBER THREE APPROACHES THE SUPPOSED 
VICINITY OF THE SILVER SWAN 

We'll be off at once," Caleb Wetherbee declared, 
as soon as he had stepped upon the deck of the whale- 
back. Go up to the cabin, Don, and tell the steward 
to fix you out with a bath and some clean clothes. 
You know which stateroom yours is." 

Gladly did Brandon avail himself of this opportunity, 
and while Caleb was personally seeing to the matter 
of getting under way, he indulged in the luxury of a 
bath and a full change of clothing. 

Before he was presentable again. Number Three 
had steam up (the fires had only been banked), and 
was moving slowly away from Savannah. 

“ Quick connections on this trip, eh, lad ? " Caleb 
said, rubbing his hands gleefully, as he entered the 
cabin and found Brandon “ clothed and in his right 
mind " again, as the youth himself expressed it. 

Three hours ago you were in the hold of the brig, 
wasn't you? Now, let’s hear your yarn." 

Brandon complied with his request, giving fullest 
details of his incarceration in the hold of the Success. 

“ That 'ere is a mighty plucky girl,” was Caleb’s ad- 
miring comment when the tale was finished. “ What 
d’ye say her name was ? " 


224 


THE VICINITY OF THE SILVER SWAN 225 


Milly Frank; the cap'n is her father, and he owns 
the brig- himself.” 

Frank — Frank,” repeated Caleb slowly. '' That 
has a familiar sound.” 

“ It has to me, too,” said Brandon slowly. “ Fve 
been trying to think, ever since I met the girl, where 
I had heard her name and seen her face, too, for both 
seem familiar.” 

“ I have it ! ” suddenly exclaimed Caleb, smiting his 
thigh. 

“ Well?” 

“ Frank was the name of the chap as Adoniram's 
sister married — the little one, ye know.” 

‘‘ You’re right. And her name was Milly, too,” 
(Brandon rejoined eagerly. Bet you this was a 
daughter of hers. I thought her face looked familiar, 
and now I think of it, it was because she looked so 
much like the face of Milly Pepper — her picture 
hung in the room they gave me at Mr. Pepper’s.” 

“ ’Twould tickle ’Doniram ’most to death to know 
he had a niece,” Caleb said. 

“ And Miss Frances, too. As soon as we find the 
Silver Swan we must look up the Success. . . . 

And that reminds me, Caleb. You say you’ve heard 
of the wreck again ? ” 

The captain of the whaleback drew a telegram from 
his pocket and passed it over to his young second offi- 
cer. 

“ That’s from ’Doniram. As I said, I got it this 
afternoon.” 

This was the message : 


226 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Rio steamship Creole Prince arrived this a. m., reports Sil- 
ver Swan as being sighted March 23rd, latitude 27 : i8„ longi- 
tude 68 : 30. 

Still moving northeast, isn’t she?” Brandon said, 
handing back the yellow slip. 

“ In course.” 

“ And what was that you told me about the Kear- 
sarge ? ” 

“ Here’s the evening paper,” responded Caleb, hand- 
ing over a folded sheet. “ There’s the item,” and he 
pointed with his stumpy forefinger to a marked pas- 
sage which read as follows : 

The Department has ordered the Kearsarge to leave the 
Chesapeake to-morrow on her trip to the West Indies. Her 
commander has received special orders to destroy several of 
the most dangerous derelicts which are at present infesting 
the coast below Hatteras, and especially off the Bermudas. 
The hull of the Hattie Marvin, floating bottom upwards north 
of Bermuda, and that of the Silver Swan, south of the same 
islands, both of which have been frequently reported of late 
and are exceedingly dangerous, will have the early attention 
of the midshipmen, who consider the excitement of blowing 
up derelicts a boon indeed. 

“We have a good start of her,” Brandon declared 
with satisfaction. “ It will be because we’re not smart 
if we can’t find the Silver Swan first.” 

“ Right, lad. An’ we will find her, too,” said Caleb 
hopefully. 

“ And about Swivel,” went on Don, changing the 
subject; “ where is he? ” 

“ He’s below with the men. Smart lad, he is, an’ 
I reckon we’ll make quite a man of him yet.” 


THE VICINITY OF THE SILVER SWAN 227 


I must do something for him — if I get those dia- 
monds/’ Brandon added. Now, Captain Wether- 
bee, with your permission I’ll turn in and get some 
sleep, for I haven’t slept decently for a week, I was 
so worried. 

At sunrise the whaleback had left the mouth of the 
Savannah river, and the shores were low down on the 
horizon behind them. At sunset, when Brandon final- 
ly arose from a long slumber, the steamer was alone 
on a vast extent of heaving, restless sea. The land 
had entirely disappeared. 

Brandon took up his duties of second officer with 
enthusiasm. He had everything to learn — or about 
everything — but the work was right along the line 
of his strongest taste. He loved it, and therefore went 
about it earnestly, and learned rapidly. 

Messrs. Coffin and Bolin assisted him in every way 
possible, for they were greatly attracted to the boy. 
Of course, Caleb was ever his faithful mentor and 
teacher, and Brandon soon fell into the ways and 
duties of the ship, and accredited himself very well, 
indeed. 

The swift steamer kept on her southeasterly course 
for several days without incident of importance. No 
derelicts were sighted, and but few vessels. 

Brandon was told, however, that coming down from 
New York the whaleback had sighted two wrecks, but 
the captain dared not delay to investigate them until 
the principal object of the voyage was accomplished. 
Caleb determined to let all other derelicts but the 
Silver Swan severely alone. 

The whaleback passed the Bermudas low down on 


228 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


the sea line, and being well supplied with fuel kept 
on toward that portion of the ocean where the hull 
of the Silver Swan was supposed to be making her ob- 
jectless voyage. 

A sharp lookout was kept day and night, but it was 
not until after the Bermudas had faded from sight 
that anything other than passing sailing vessels and 
steamers were sighted. At night the whaleback ran 
very slowly, indeed, so that naught might escape her, 
but during the day she traveled at a high rate of 
speed. 

Just before sunrise one morning Brandon was 
aroused by a commotion on deck. He leaped from 
his berth at once, and having been to sea long enough 
now to know how to dress quickly, was outside in less 
than a minute. Then he made out what the lookout 
on the top of the forward turret was shouting: 

Wreck — dead ahead, sir ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXII 


RELATING HOW THE SILVER SWAN WAS HEARD FROM 

As the sun rose and lit up the sea more fully Bran- 
don could plainly view the wreck which the steamer 
was now rapidly approaching. 

It was not, he believed at first glance, the Silver 
Swan. It was the hull of a vessel, sunk a good deal 
at the stern; but one mast was standing, and a great 
tangle of cordage and torn sails was still attached 
to it. 

“ That’s never the Silver Swan, lad,” Caleb de- 
clared. She was swept as clean as a whistle. This 
was a square rigged vessel, however.” 

The steamer ran in very close to the wreck, and 
Brandon made out the words, “ Porpoise, New 
Haven,” under the bows. 

The derelict gave every appearance of being what 
Mr. Coffin called “ an old stager,” and labored in the 
seas most heavily. 

“ That’s a mighty dangerous wreck,” Caleb 'declared 
reflectively, as the whaleback steamed slowly by. “ It 
wouldn’t take long to sink her, although ’twould cost 
something. What d’ye say, Mr. Coffin — will you 
go aboard her, and if she isn’t worth towing in, drop 
enough dynamite into her hold to blow her up?- You 
229 


230 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


know how to run that battery Mr. Pepper had put 
aboard.” 

“ Aye, aye, sir,” the first officer replied, and bustled 
away to order a boat launched at once. 

By special request Brandon was allowed to accom- 
pany the expedition. The old hulk was found to be 
in ballast, and Mr. Coffin therefore placed a quantity 
of the powerful explosive in her hold, attached the 
wire, and they pulled back toward the steamer. 

When the small boat was out of danger the officer 
touched the button and an instant later the still morn- 
ing air was shattered by a terrific roar. 

The wreck seemed almost to rise from the sea, a 
great volume of fire and smoke issued from her amid- 
ships, and she broke in two, the water rushing in and 
filling the interior with a sound like the echo of the 
explosion. 

Slowly the derelict settled, her stern going first, un- 
til the very tip of the tottering mast disappeared be- 
low the surface. Only a few splintered deck timbers, 
which would soon follow the ship to the bottom, re- 
mained to show where the hulk had disappeared. 

“ Good job, that,” Caleb declared, when the boat 
had returned to the steamer, “ though it cost us three 
hours’ time. That hulk had been floating for nearly 
a year, according to the pilot charts.” 

The second day after the blowing up of the derelict 
Porpoise, a steamship was sighted by the whaleback. 
It was the City of Havana, of the James E. Ward line, 
and, by running in close, Caleb was able to hold con- 
verse with the ship’s captain. 

To the satisfaction of the captain of Number Three, 


THE SILVER SWAN HEARD FROM 


231 


the City of Havana's commander could, and did, give 
him some information about the derelict brig of which 
they were in search. 

The steamship had sighted the Silver Swan in lati- 
tude 28, longitude 69:13, and reported the vessel in 
a remarkable state of preservation. The spring storms 
had not appeared to damage her much. 

This news was hailed joyfully by Caleb and Bran- 
don, and the course of the whaleback was changed a 
little more to the east. 

The weather, however, which had been all that they 
could wish thus far since leaving Savannah, began to 
get nasty. The sea became short and choppy, though 
without apparently affecting the sailing of the whale- 
back, and the sky looked bad. 

Finally, after a day or two of this, a dead calm oc- 
curred, and Caleb shook his head sagely. 

“ We’re goin’ to ketch it," he declared, “ an’ we’ll 
have a chance to find out how the steamer rides in a 
gale, whether we want to or not.’’ 

And he was right. While the whaleback steamed 
slowly ahead, a heavy swell came on, although there 
was not a breath of air stirring. The sea heaved and 
rolled, seemingly in throes of agony. 

At first the cause was entirely submarine. At 
length, however, there was a groaning, moaning sound, 
which gradually increased in volume, until, with a 
sudden roar, the hurricane swooped down upon them. 
The waves were tossed toward the wind driven, leaden 
clouds with awful fury, breaking like surf over the 
whaleback ; but the steamer withstood the fearful 


232 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


shocks as easily as she had the choppy waves which 
preceded the gale. 

She kept but little headway, however, and as the 
black night shut down about the craft, Brandon 
realized fully the terrible risks and hazardous chances 
taken by ‘‘ those who go down to the sea in ships.” 

For two days the gale continued, but with less fury 
than signaled its first appearance. Number Three 
might have put back into Bermuda, but she acted so 
well that Caleb decided to stay outside and thus lose 
no possible opportunity of sighting the Silver Swan. 

Brandon had never contemplated what a storm at 
sea meant before and he was thankful indeed that he 
was not upon a sailing vessel. 

During the first of the gale they had sighted several 
vessels, with close reefed sails, scudding before the 
wind, but all were riding the sea well. 

Late in the afternoon of the second day, however, 
the lookout, who was lashed to the top of the wheel- 
house, reported a wreck ahead. 

At first Caleb and Brandon, who were both armed 
with glasses, could not make it out clearly enough to 
decide what it was. 

Finally the old seaman declared with conviction. 

“ It’s the hull of a vessel an’ her masts have been 
carried away sure.” 

“ Do you think it is the brig, Caleb ? ” the young 
second mate asked eagerly. 

''Ye got me there. It may be, and then ag’in it 
may not. We’ll run down an’ see.” 

The storm was by no means abating and Caleb 
dared not run very close to the wreck. 


THE> SILVER SWAN HEARD FROM 


233 


As they approached it, however, the former mate 
of the Silver Swan became convinced that it was not 
the wreck they sought. He was familiar with every 
line of Captain Horace Tarr’s vessel and this, he de- 
clared, was not it. 

Suddenly Swivel’s sharp eyes caught sight of some- 
thing which the others had not seen. 

There’s something tied to that stump of a mast, 
sir,” he exclaimed, pointing toward the forward part 
of the wreck. “ It’s a flag o’ some kind.” 

“It’s a signal ! ” Mr. Coffin declared. “ There’s 
some poor soul on the wreck. See — there he is.” 

At the instant he spoke they all descried a moving 
figure on the derelict — some one, who, clinging 
with one hand to the cordage which still hung to the 
mast, with the other waved a signal frantically at the 
approaching steamer. 

“ Great Heavens ! ” exclaimed Mr. Coffin, strongly 
moved by the scene. “ What shall we do? No mor- 
tal man can help him in this gale.” 

“We must do something,” Caleb replied. 

“ A boat couldn’t live in this sea, sir,” said the first 
officer despairingly. 

“ We must try to throw him a line.” 

But upon trial it was found that it would be ex- 
ceedingly hazardous to run down near enough to the 
wreck for that. The hull was rolling so frightfully 
that it might turn completely over at any moment and 
carry the steamer to the bottom with it should they run 
in too near. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


IN WHICH COMRADES IN COURAGE LAUNCH THEM- 
SELVES UPON THE DEEP 

Brandon’s glass had been turned upon the figure 
on the wreck for the few moments during which the 
others had been discussing the possibility of saving 
the poor creature. Now he exclaimed hurriedly. 

“ That’s not a man — it’s a woman ! Don’t you see 
her skirts blowing in the gale? She is alone on the 
wreck.” 

Caleb seized his own glass again, and Mr. Bolin 
dived into the cabin for his. 

“ You’re right, lad,” the captain declared. Either 
all the men have been swept overboard, or the white 
livered rascals have taken to the boats and abandoned 
her.” 

But Brandon was making other discoveries. As the 
steamer cut through the huge waves, approaching 
nearer and nearer to the wreck, something about the 
outlines of the female figure seemed familiar to him. 

He knew the face which was turned pleadingly 
toward the steamer — the powerful glass revealed 
every feature clearly. 

It was Milly Frank ! 

At the instant of Brandon’s discovery, the steamer 
gave a sudden roll, and he was thrown partially from 
234 


COMRADES IN COURAGE 


23S 


his balance and his glass wavered an instant from the 
girl’s face. 

In that instant the stern of the fated vessel came 
within range of his vision and he plainly saw the word 
“ Success ” painted in tarnished gold lettering upon it. 

Caleb ! Caleb ! ” he cried, forgetting for the mo- 
ment to apply the proper term of respect to the cap- 
tain which, according to the quarter deck etiquette, he 
should have done, “that’s the Success, and the girl 
is the captain’s daughter ! ” 

“Oh, it can’t be, lad ! ” cried the old man, unwilling 
to believe such a fact possible. 

“ It is the Success — I see her name,” Mr. Bolin 
declared. 

“ Poor little girl ! poor little girl ! ” exclaimed the 
honest old sailor brokenly. “ We can’t stand here and 
see her perish.” 

“ I shan’t,” Brandon affirmed, passing his own glass 
to Mr. Coffin. 

“ What can you do, lad ? ” queried Caleb. “ The 
gale’s not abating a mite.” 

“ All that we can do I see, sir, is to stand by till 
the sea goes down, and then, God willing, take her 
off,” said Mr. Coffin. 

“ Why, that old hulk may sink at any moment ! ” 
cried Brandon. “ I won’t stay idle and see that girl 
drown after all she has done for me.” 

“ An’ it’s Adoniram’s niece — no doubt of it,” mur- 
mured Caleb. 

“ That is another reason why we should try to save 
her. I haven’t forgotten all that Mr. Pepper has done 
for me,” declared Brandon decidedly. 


236 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

“But, lad, lad, what can we do?” gasped the cap- 
tain. “ It’s not a living possibility to send a boat to 
that brig, and I dare not risk the lives of all these 
men in my care by running in near enough for a 
cable to be thrown.” 

“ And the girl probably couldn’t fasten it, if we 
did,” added Mr. Bolin. 

“ Then we must do something else. Run by her, 
Caleb, and I’ll carry a rope to the brig.” 

“You’re crazy!” cried Mr. Coffin. 

“ Maybe I am,” Brandon returned, his face white 
and set ; “ but I shall do it.” 

Swivel, who was clinging to a guard rope within 
hearing, struck in with him, 

“ Lemme do it, Brandon — I mean Mr. Tarr. I kin 
swim like a fish.” 

“ Nobody shall go but myself,” the boy declared, 
with emphasis. “ I won’t suggest a perilous under- 
taking and not be the one to carry it out.” 

“ Cap’n Tarr right over again,” Caleb muttered. 

Then he turned suddenly upon his young second 
officer. 

“ Kick off your shoes, lad, and try it. If it’s the 
Lord’s will that you accomplish it, well and good; if 
you can’t, we’ll haul you back. Quick, now! I’ll 
order Mike to go ahead full speed.” 

Before the words were scarcely out of the captain’s 
mouth, Brandon had kicked off his light shoes. 

Swivel, who could not be taught strict quarter deck 
manners, followed the young officer’s example. 

“ What are you about, you young limb o’ Satan?” 
demanded Mr. Coffin, catching him at this. 


COMRADES IN COURAGE 


237 


“"Ef he goes, Fm goin’ an’ you ain’t goin’ ter stop 
me, Mr. Coffin,” announced the gamin. ‘‘ I’m in dis ! ” 

“ Behave yourself,” Brandon commanded, quickly 
knotting a light, strong cable about his ’waist, while 
Mr. Bolin fastened a life preserver beneath his arms. 

One is enough.” 

“ Den Fm de one ! ” the boy declared vehemently, 
and dodging Mr. Coffin’s outstretched arm, he seized 
a second coil of rope, one end of which was fastened 
to a ring in the deck, and ran to the stern of the 
steamer. 

‘‘ Come back here ! ” roared the first mate angrily. 

Fll rope’s end you, you little scamp ! ” 

You’ll have ter do it when I get back from dat 
wreck ! ” returned the boy, with an impish grin, and 
the steamer having now forged ahead of the laboring 
brig, and Brandon being all ready, the fearless Swivel 
also dropped over the rail, and clinging with one 
hand a moment, let go simultaneously with his friend 
and patron. 

Brandon tried to send him back, but it was too late 
then. The first wave seized them in its embrace and 
they were carried far out from the steamer’s stern. 

The cork belt kept the young second mate above 
the waves, but even with this assistance, he found him- 
self much less able to cope with the heavy seas than 
was his companion. 

Swivel dived through the rollers like a gull, keeping 
faithfully by his friend’s side; and had it not been for 
the street gamin, Brandon afterward declared that he 
should never have reached the wreck alive. 

He had no idea how furious the waves were until 


238 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

he was among them,, battling for his life, and trying 
to reach the distant brig. 

It was a terrific struggle, lasting perhaps not five 
minutes, but a few more seconds would have com- 
pletely exhausted him. 

A great wave suddenly swept them directly under 
the brig’s bows. Swivel seized Brandon’s hand with 
one of his own and with the other grabbed a rope 
trailing over the rail of the wreck. 

Fortunately the other end of the rope was securely 
fastened, and with an almost superhuman effort Swivel 
raised Brandon until the second mate of the whale- 
back could grasp the rail. 

In another moment Brandon was aboard the brig, 
and had pulled Swivel over the rail after him. 

“ Wot — did — I — tell — ye ? ” gasped the gamin, 
whose spirit no amount of danger could quench. 
“ Two heads is better ’n one, ef one is a cabbage head. 
Where’s de girl ? ” 

But Milly was already creeping forward to their 
position on her hands and knees. 

“ How can you take me back ? ” she asked at once, 
her voice sounding as firmly above the gale as though 
danger was the farthest of anything from her thoughts. 

Then she recognized Brandon. 

‘"You?” she exclaimed, in surprise. “I never 
thought of you being on that steamer.” 

“ I didn’t forget what you did for me,” Brandon 
said in reply. “ I’d have risked a good deal more 
than this for you.” 

“ You couldn’t risk any more,” she declared firmly ; 
‘‘ for you’ve risked your life.” 

Meanwhile Swivel was signaling to those on the 


COMRADES IN COURAGE 


239 


steamer to attach a heavier cable to the one tied about 
his waist. This was done in a short time, and then 
all three of the endangered ones laid hold and pulled 
the cable in, hand over hand. 

It was hard work. The heavy rope was wet and 
unmanageable, and the strain on their young muscles 
was terrible. 

Milly worked as unceasingly as did the two boys, 
but the cable came across the tossing waves but slowly. 

‘‘ Where are the crew — where is your father ? 
asked Brandon. 

The girl’s face worked pitifully at this question. 

Father is dead,” she sobbed, “ and the crew took 
to the boats while I was below. That was early this 
morning.” 

“ And you’ve been here alone ever since ! ” said 
Brandon pityingly. 

At that instant there was a slight exclamation, from 
Swivel, and the small cable by which they were en- 
deavoring to gain the larger one, came in over the rail 
with fearful suddenness. 

All three were sent sprawling on the deck. 

''What is it?” gasped Milly. 

" The rope’s parted,” cried Brandon in horror. 

" Never mind ; don’t you give up, missy,” Swivel 
exclaimed. " We’ve got anoder rope yet. Where’s 
de end o’ dat rope you had tied ’round you, Bran- 
don ? ” he demanded. 

Brandon only groaned. 

" Where is it ? ” shrieked the other lad, fairly shak- 
ing him in his impatience. 

" I cast it loose,” was the disheartening reply. It 
is gone ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


THE INCIDENTS OF A NIGHT OF PERIL 

Night was shutting down over the face of the 
storm tossed ocean — night of the blackest and wild- 
est description. Already the outlines of the steamer 
ahead were scarcely visible from the bows of the 
water logged brig. 

By a series of misfortunes (Brandon Tarr bitterly 
accused himself of causing the crowning mischance of 
them all) the three unfortunates on the Success were 
entirely cut off from escape. 

“ Oh/’ cried Milly, in bitterness of spirit second 
only to Brandon’s own, you have lost your lives for 
me — both of you. I am not worthy of it ! ” 

“ Don’t ye lose heart, missy,” Swivel declared, with 
a courage he was far from feeling. “Th’ ship hain’t 
sunk.” 

“ No one but God Himself knows how long it will 
keep afloat, though,” Brandon returned despairingly. 

“ And the gale is increasing again, too,” added Milly 
softly. 

“ This is the last end of it, that’s wot I think,” de- 
clared Swivel cheerfully. It’ll blow itself out now 
purty soon.” 

Brandon could not look at the situation thus hope- 
240 


A NIGHT OF PERIL 


241 


fully, but he determined to say nothing further to make 
the girl despair. 

Swivel’s tone shamed him into thinking of her 
rather than of himself. 

The men on board the steamer, had ere this dis- 
covered what had happened, but they could do nothing 
to assist the three on the brig. 

It was absolutely necessary to keep some headway 
— considerable, in fact — on the whaleback, to pre- 
vent her from swinging around into the trough of the 
waves. Every moment they were getting farther and 
farther away from the doomed derelict. 

Caleb roared something to them through the trum- 
pet, but the distance and the howling of the gale pre- 
vented them from making out what he said. The 
wind and spray beat upon them alternately as they 
crouched together in the high bows, and every other 
sound but that of the elements was drowned. 

Come back in the shelter of the mast,” Brandon 
shouted at last. “ We can do nothing further here. 
Our position is so exposed that we may be washed off 
before we know it.” 

Each of the boys grasped an arm of the captain’s 
daughter and with no little trouble they managed to 
reach the great tangle of rigging and shreds of canvas 
which hung about the one remaining mast. 

The topmast had long since been carried away, but 
the main spar still defied the storm, writhing and twist- 
ing like a thing of life in the fierce grasp of the gale. 

Here, crouching under its lee, the shipwrecked boys 
and girl clung to the stiffened ropes with hands little 
less stiffened by the cold and water. 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


As an extra precaution they bound themselves to- 
gether, and then fastened the same rope to the mast, 
knowing that a wave might board the lumbering brig 
at any moment and sweep everything on it that was 
not fastened, into the sea. 

Occasionally, as the wreck climbed heavily to the 
summit of an enormous roller, they could catch a 
glimpse of the steamer’s lights; but as the hours 
dragged slowly on, these became less and less distinct. 

Without doubt the whaleback was drawing slowly 
away from the wreck, and the worst of it was, those on 
the steamer probably did not suspect it. 

The castaways had no means of showing their 
whereabouts by lights, and the steamer was too far 
away, and had been since the darkness shut down, for 
those aboard her to see the outlines of the brig. 
Therefore Caleb Wetherbee and his officers had no 
means of knowing that the steamer was traveling 
nearly two miles to the brig’s one. 

Suddenly there was a flash of light from the 
steamer’s deck, and a rocket went hurtling upwards 
into the leaden sky, to fall in showers of sparks into 
the sea. It was a message of hope to the unfortunates 
on the brig — it was meant as such, at least — but 
they had no way of replying to it. 

“ Aren’t there any rockets aboard ? ” asked Brandon 
of the captain’s daughter. 

“ There may be, but I do not know where,” the girl 
replied ; “ and the cabin is half filled with water, too.” 

“ Never mind if it is ; I believe I’ll try to find them. 
There must be something of the kind aboard.” 


A NIGHT OF PERIL 


243 


“ Ye’d better stay here,” Swivel warned him anx- 
iously. I don’t like ter see ye git out o’ sight.” 

“ Don’t you think I can take care of myself ? ” 
Brandon demanded. 

Not alone,” was the prompt reply. “ I reckon 
’at none of us can’t take very good keer of ourselves 
in this gale. We’d best not git too fur apart.” 

“Well, I’m going to try to get into the cabin,” 
Brandon added. “ Nothing ventured, nothing 
gained.” 

He unfastened the rope from about his waist, and 
in spite of the objections of his two companions, crept 
aft toward the cabin companionway. 

The feat was not of the easiest, as he quickly found ; 
but once having determined to do it, he would not give 
up. 

The door of the cabin was jammed fast, but after 
some little maneuvering he was able to force an en- 
trance, and descended into the apartment, which was 
knee deep with water washed in from the heavy seas 
which had broken over the brig during the day. 

There was no means of lighting a lantern, however, 
and after rummaging about in the darkness for half 
an hour, he had to return to the deck without having 
accomplished anything. 

As he stepped outside again, he found the brig pitch- 
ing worse than ever. The gale was full of “ flaws ” 
now — a sure sign that it was blowing itself out — 
but occasionally it would rise to greater fury than 
it had shown in all the two previous days. 

Just as he reached the deck one of these sudden 
squalls occurred, and a huge green roller swept in 


244 the quest of THE SILVER SWAN 


over the stern of the brig, and advanced with lightning 
speed along the deck, sweeping wreckage and all else 
before it. 

Brandon had just closed the door, and by clinging 
to the handle, was able to keep himself from being 
washed overboard ; but he was almost drowned during 
the few moments while the wave filled the compan- 
ionway. 

As it passed, there was a sudden crack forward, and 
even above the shriek of the gale, he heard SwiveFs 
cry of alarm. 

With a rush and roar like the fall of a mighty for- 
est tree, the mast, splitting at the deck, toppled over 
across the rail. 

Brandon uttered a despairing shout, for it seemed 
impossible for the wreck ever to right herself, the 
weight of the fallen spar dragged her over so far. 

But providentially the mast had split clear off at 
the deck, and after staggering a moment from the 
blow, the brig shook off her incumbrance, and came to 
an even keel again. 

But following the falling of the mast came a shriek 
from Milly Frank which pierced his very soul. 

“ Brandon ! Brandon ! Help ! 

With that cry ringing in his ears, the boy dashed 
forward along the slippery deck and reached the spot 
where he had left his companions. 

Quick ! this way ! ” called the girl’s clear voice, and 
darting to the rail he was just able to grasp the cap- 
tain’s daughter and drag her back from the cruel sea. 

“ Now him ! ” commanded the girl, and pulling in 


A NIGHT OF PERIL 


245 


the line which was still attached to her waist, Brandon 
drew the form of Swivel out of the waves. 

‘‘ Oh, he is dead ! ” cried Milly in agony. “ He 
saved me, Brandon. When the mast fell he cut the 
rope and took me in his arms and ran, but one of the 
ropes tripped him up and we were washed to the rail 
by that great wave.” 

“ I hope he isn’t dead — oh, I hope not ! ” Brandon 
returned, kneeling down beside the motionless boy, 
and chafing his forehead tenderly. 

Milly took one of the poor street gamin’s hands in 
her own and chafed it likewise. 

Probably never before during his miserable, event- 
ful existence had Swivel known such gentleness. His 
life had been hard indeed, and it looked as though its 
lamp had gone out now in the performance of a noble 
and courageous deed. 

There on the storm swept deck Milly and Brandon 
knelt for nearly an hour before the unconscious boy 
showed the least sign of life. 

Then the eyelids fluttered a little and he drew in his 
breath with a slight sigh. 

“ He’s coming to ! ” Brandon exclaimed. 

But although poor Swivel opened his eyes once or 
twice, it was a long time before he seemed to realize 
where he was or what had happened. 

At last he whispered brokenly. 

“ Don’t — don’t — fret yerself — missy — I’m — 
I’m goin’ ter be all right.” 

“ Are you in pain. Swivel ? ” queried Brandon, hav- 
ing almost to shout to make himself heard. 

Milly was crying softly. The strain of the last 


246 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


twenty hours was beginning to tell on even her bravery 
and fortitude. 

“ Dret — dretful!” gasped the injured boy weakly. 

Brandon had to place his ear almost to his lips to 
distinguish his words. 

“ Right — here,” and he laid his hand feebly on his 
chest. 

“ That’s where he struck across the rail,” declared 
Milly, when Brandon had repeated these words to 
her. “ Oh, the poor fellow has been hurt internally. 
Do you think the morning will ever come, Brandon ? ” 

“ I’m afraid it will come very soon for him, poor 
boy,” replied Don meaningly, and there were tears in 
his own eyes. 

Swivel had closed his eyes and a strange, grayish 
pallor was spreading over his drawn features. 

His hearing seemed wonderfully acute, however. 
He heard the word “ morning ” at least, and his eyes 
flew open again and he struggled to raise himself on 
his elbow. 

“ Is it morning now ? ” he asked feebly. 

“ No, no,” replied Brandon soothingly. “ Not yet. 
Swivel. Don’t exert yourself. Lie down again.” 

The injured youth strove to speak once more, but 
suddenly fell back upon the rude pillow Don had made 
of his coat, and a stream of blood flowed from his 
lips. 

Milly uttered a startled gasp, but Brandon hastily 
wiped the poor fellow’s lips, and after a moment the 
hemorrhage ceased. 

But they looked at each other meaningly. They 
Jiad lost all hope now of the shock not proving fatal. 


A NIGHT OF PERIL 


247 


While they had watched Swivel, the gale, as though 
at last satisfied with its cruel work, had gradually less- 
ened. The wind ceased almost wholly within the next 
hour, although the waves did not entirely go down. 

Swivel lay motionless during all this time, occasion- 
ally opening his eyes to gaze up into the faces of his 
two friends, whom he could see quite clearly, but 
otherwise showing no sign of life. 

Finally he attempted to speak again. 

“ It’s — it’s hard — on me — ain’t it ? ” he gasped, 
in Brandon’s ear. “I — I — don’ wanter die.” 

His friend did not know what to say in reply to 
this, but Milly seized his hand and tried to comfort 
him. 

“ Don’t be afraid, Swivel,” she said, trying to make 
her own faith serve for the dying fellow too. “ It will 
be better over there.” 

“ Mebbee — mebbee they won’t let me come.” 

Yes, you may, if you ask, Swivel. Don’t you love 
God?” 

“ I hain’t — hain’t never — heered — much erbout 
Him,” returned the lad. “ I heered the chap at the 
mission — school talk erbout — erbout Him some. I 
— I never paid much ’tention.” 

His voice was stronger now, but in a moment the 
blood gushed from his lips again. 

“ Don’t talk — oh, don’t talk. Swivel ? ” cried Bran- 
don beseechingly. 

’Twon’t matter — not much,” the boy returned, af- 
ter a few minutes. 

He felt blindly for Brandon’s hand and seized it 


248 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


tightly. Milly, still kneeling on the opposite side, held 
the other. 

“ Can’t ye say a prayer, like — like that feller in the 
mission did — er one o’ them hymns ? ” he muttered. 

The boy and girl crouching above him looked into 
each other’s faces a moment in silence. 

Brandon Tarr might have faced a thousand dangers 
without shrinking, but he could not do this. It re- 
mained for Milly to comply with the poor boy’s re- 
quest. 

After the terrific howling of the gale, the night 
seemed strangely still now. The hurrying, leaden 
clouds were fast breaking up, and here and there a 
ray of moonlight pierced their folds and lit up the 
froth flecked summits of the tossing billows. 

One narrow band of light fell across her pale face 
as she raised it toward the frowning heavens and began 
to sing: 


“Jesus, Saviour, pilot me. 

Over life’s tempestuous sea; 

Unknown waves before me roll. 

Hiding rock and treach’rous shoal; 

Chart and compass come from the Thee: 

Jesus, Saviour, pilot me. 

“When at last I near the shore. 

And the fearful breakers roar 
Twixt me and the peaceful rest, 

Then, while leaning on Thy breast. 

May I hear Thee say to me, 

* Fear not, I will pilot thee ’ ! ” 

Faintly, at first, but mounting higher and clearer, 
rose the sweet girlish voice, and not only the poor 


A NIGHT OF PERIL 


249 


street gamin, but Brandon himself listened entranced. 

When the beautiful hymn was finished, Brandon felt 
that it was a prayer not only for him whose spirit 
might at any moment depart, but for Milly and him- 
self, who should remain behind at the mercy of the 
storm tossed sea. 


CHAPTER XXXV 


SHOWING HOW CALEB APPEARED ON THE SCENE JUST 
TOO LATE 

The anxiety of Caleb Wetherbee for Brandon^s 
safety was really pitiful to behold. When the cable 
parted which attached the wrecked brig to the steamer, 
the captain at once realized that his ward and his two 
companions were in a very serious predicament. 

There was absolutely nothing that those aboard the 
whaleback could do in that howling gale to assist in 
the rescue of the castaways. 

Occasionally Caleb had a rocket fired to show the 
unfortunate trio that he was remaining near them; 
but, as we know, that was very sorry comfort to Bran- 
don and his two companions. It simply served to con- 
vince them how rapidly Number Three was leaving 
them astern. 

On one point Caleb’s calculations were very much 
amiss. He was running the whaleback as slowly as 
practicable, keeping just enough headway on to keep 
her from broaching to; but he failed to realize that 
even at that speed he was sailing two miles or more 
to the brig’s one. 

Of course, when once the night had shut down it 
was impossible for anybody aboard the steamer to 
see the outlines of the wreck, and therefore this fact 
250 


JUST TOO LATE 


251 


escaped their attention. The water logged Success 
moved at a snail’s pace, and all night long the steamer 
drew away from her, so that, after the storm had 
cleared away and the sun rose, not a sign of the brig 
appeared. 

“ Has she sunk ?” queried Caleb in distress, as, in 
company with his two remaining officers, he swept 
the horizon with his glass. 

“ Rather, we have left her behind,” declared Mr. 
Coffin, making a shrewd guess as to the real facts 
in the case. “ The brig must have sailed slower than 
we supposed.” 

'' Then -we must turn about at once and run back,” 
Caleb declared, and the necessary orders were given. 

The day following the cessation of the gale was 
most beautiful, but Caleb cared nothing for that. He 
neither ate nor slept, but remained on deck nearly all 
the time, scanning the wide stretch of sea visible from 
the top of the after cabin. 

The day passed and night came on, however, with- 
out a sign of the wreck appearing. 

During this time the steamer had been running in 
a direction generally south; while the gale was on 
she had run northeast. The whole day being spent 
in fruitless search in this direction, however, Caleb 
commanded the steamer to be put about again at 
evening. 

All that second night she ran slowly to the east- 
ward, thus allowing for the supposed drift of the 
Success, but they saw no signs of the derelict, al- 
though the night was clear and the moon bright. 

The day following they spoke several partially dis- 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


mantled vessels whose crews were beating into the 
Bermudas for repairs. None of these, however, had 
sighted the wreck of the Success. 

“ They’ve gone to the bottom,” groaned poor Caleb 
that afternoon, as he sat on the edge of the berth in 
his stateroom. 

He could not sleep, but had taken Mr. Coffin’s ad- 
vice and tried to. 

“ All gone — Brandon, whose dead father I prom- 
ised I’d look out for him, an’ that other poor lad, an’ 
the little girl. God help me ! how can I go back and 
tell Adoniram about this? 

‘‘ An’ then, we’ve not found the Silver Swan yet 
— nor air we likely to after this gale. She’s gone to 
the bottom, too, mayhap, and Brandon’s fortune along 
with her. Well ” 

Just here he was interrupted in his soliloquy by the 
hurried entrance of Mr. Bolin. 

‘‘Will you please come on deck, sir?” said the 
third officer, evidently somewhat excited. “ We have 
sighted what appears to be a steamer and a dismantled 
vessel with her. Mr. Coffin wishes you to come up 
and see if you can make her out.” 

But Caleb was out of the cabin before Mr. Bolin 
had finished speaking, glass in hand. 

“ Where is she ? ” he demanded. 

“ Right ahead, captain,” replied Mr. Coffin. 
“ There ! you can see the black smoloe rising from the 
steamship’s funnels now. The wreck, if it is a wreck, 
is between her and us.” 

Caleb got the range of the two vessels almost im- 


JUST TOO LATE 


253 


mediately, and it did not take a very long look to as- 
sure him that his mate was right. 

“ That’s a wreck, sure enough,” he declared, pay- 
ing but very little attention to the steamship. “ Order 
the engineer to go ahead at full speed.” 

Fifteen minutes later they were near enough to see 
the wreck quite plainly. The steam vessel seemed, 
to be lying quietly upon the sea now, and as they 
looked a boat was lowered and pulled toward the dis- 
mantled hulk. 

They were still several miles away, however, and 
could not see whether the wreck was boarded by those 
in the small boat or not. 

“ It strikes me,” began Mr. Coffin after a prolonged 
gazing through his glass at the wreck, “that that 
doesn’t have the same appearance as that vessel the 
boys are on. What do you think, Mr. Wetherbee?” 

Caleb had doubts in that direction himself. 

“ I tell ye what it is,” he said : “ the Success had 
a mast for’ard. This one hain’t.” 

“ It’s my opinion that’s the hull of a brig, just the 
same,” Mr. Coffin declared. 

Suddenly Caleb uttered an exclamation. 

“ That’s no steamship,” he declared. “ See her 
colors and open ports. Why, it’s a man o’ war 1 ” 

“ Right you are,” returned the mate. 

“ It’s the Kearsarge,” added Mr. Bolin. “ She was 
to come down this way, you know. Going to the West 
Indies.” 

“ One of her duties was to blow up derelicts — the 
Silver Swan among them. Suppose this hull is the 
Swan ! ” cried Mr. Coffin. 


^54 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

Caleb had fairly grown white in spite of his tan. 

“Great Peter!” he ejaculated. “ Look-er-there 1 

The small boat had left the side of the wreck, and 
was now some distance away from her. 

The whaleback was near enough to see that the offi- 
cer commanding the cutter had ordered the men to 
cease rowing and was standing up in the bow of the 
boat. 

“ They’re going to blow her up ! ” shouted Caleb. 
“ Crowd on every ounce of steam she’ll hold. We 
must stop it ! Suppose that it is the Silver Swan 1 ” 

He fairly groaned aloud, and in his excitement al- 
lowed the costly glass to fall upon the deck, which 
treatment did not materially benefit it. 

Mr. Bolin darted away to the engine room, and in 
another moment the funnels of the whaleback began 
to pour forth the blackest kind of smoke, and the 
water beneath her stern was churned to foam by the 
rapid beats of the propeller. 

They were all of a mile away from the wreck yet, 
and every instant was precious. Caleb stumped up 
and down the deck, fairly wild with apprehension, his 
eyes fixed on the cruiser’s cutter, in the bow of which 
the officer seemed to be adjusting something. 

If the whaleback had been armed Caleb would have 
fired a shot to attract the attention of the cruiser’s 
people, but there wasn’t a weapon larger than Bran- 
don’s rifle on the steamer. 

Mr. Coffin looked at his commander anxiously. He 
did not fully understand why the captain wished to 
reach the Silver Swan and save it, if this was the 


JUST TOO LATE 


255 


Silver Swan; but he did not believe that they could 
accomplish it. And he was right. 

The whaleback was still half a mile away from the 
scene of operations when suddenly the officer in the 
cutter sat down, and the instant following there was a 
loud explosion. 

A column of smoke and flame shot into the air, and 
when the smoke cloud rose, only a few harmless 
splinters on the surface of the sea remained to show 
the former position of the wreck! 

And then, when it was too late, the officer in the 
small boat discovered the approach of the whaleback. 

Number Three was still driving ahead at full speed, 
and when her steam was shut off she had such head- 
way that she nearly passed the cruiser’s cutter. 

Caleb, his voice trembling with apprehension, leaned 
over the rail and shouted his question to the officer 
who had just “touched off” the charge that had 
blown the derelict into atoms. 

“ What craft is that you blew up?” he asked. 

“ That was a derelict,” responded the officer, who 
was an ensign, in surprise. 

“ What was her name, d’ ye know ? ” 

“ She was sunken so low at the stern that we 
couldn’t read her name.” 

“ But can’t you guess ? ” cried Caleb, in great ex- 
asperation. 

“ Oh, there’s not much doubt in our minds as to 
who she was. She was one we were ordered to 
destroy. The name on her bow was badly battered, 
but we could make out part of it.” 

“ Well, for heavens’ sake, what was it?” burst forth 


256 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


'^he wooden legged captain wildly. “ Don’t beat 
’round the bush any longer.” 

The ensign began to grow as red as a peony. The 
old man’s manner of questioning ruffled his dignity 
sorely. 

To the best of my belief it was the brig Silver 
-Swan, of Boston, U. S. A.,” he declared stiffly. 


CHAPTER XXXVI 


THE CASTAWAYS ON THE BRIG SUCCESS 

To Milly and Brandon on board the water logged 
brig, it seemed as though the long night would never 
end. They crouched together over the body of poor 
Swivel, until his clasp relaxed from their hands and 
he sank into a deep sleep. 

Brandon did not believe that the injured boy would 
ever awake from that unconsciousness ; nevertheless, 
he made his way below to the cabin again and brought 
up an armful of blankets to add to his comfort. 

He wrapped one about Milly, and she made him 
share it with her, when Swivel was more comfortable. 

Thus sitting close together on the cold, wet deck, 
they conversed in whispers till dawn; Milly, at Don's 
earnest solicitation, relating all that had occurred since 
the night he had escaped from the Success at Savan- 
nah. 

It was rather a disconnected story, for the poor girl 
often broke into weeping at the memory of her father’s 
violent death. She had sincerely loved him, although 
he was a stern, rather morose man. 

It seemed that Leroyd had learned that the plans 
of himself and his friends to delay the departure of 
the whaleback from New York had failed, and that 
257 


258 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


the steamer had touched at Savannah and departed 
the very night the Success got in. 

Finding that Sneaky A1 had already arrived by 
steamship from New York, he promised Captain 
Frank an extra hundred dollars if he would land only 
a portion of his goods and set sail for the Bermudas 
again. 

The brig’s commander could not resist this temp- 
tation, and therefore the Success lay at Savannah 
but a day and two nights. Then, with Messrs. Weeks 
and Leroyd aboard, she had sailed directly for that 
part of the ocean in which the whaleback had run 
across her during the gale. 

Brandon also elicited the information that the brig 
had not been successful in her search — had not seen 
a derelict, in fact, since leaving Savannah — and that 
Leroyd was in a fiendish temper before the gale came 
-up. 

When that began, he and his friend. Weeks, turned 
to with the brig’s crew and did all they could to keep 
her afloat. Captain Frank, however, was crushed un- 
der a falling spar and instantly killed when the gale 
first started in, and the first officer was washed over- 
board. 

When the brig became unmanageable and the crew 
rushed for the boats, nobody thought, or at least no- 
body stopped, for the bereaved girl in the cabin. She 
discovered that the crew had gone and left her only 
by coming on deck after the water had begun to fill 
the cabin. 

Brandon and the captain’s daughter had ample time. 


THE CASTAWAYS ON THE BRIG SUCCESS 259 


before the sun appeared, to get very well acquainted 
with each other. 

Don told her all about himself, about the object of 
the voyage of the whaleback, and of the plot concocted 
by his uncle Arad and Messrs. Leroyd and Weeks to 
find the Silver Swan and obtain the treasure aboard 
her themselves. 

As soon as it did grow light, Brandon made his way 
below again and after a great deal of trouble lit an oil 
lamp and heated a little water over its blaze. He was 
then able to make some warm drink for Swivel and 
Milly, denying himself until she had swallowed some, 
and between them they had forced a little of the mix- 
ture between the injured boy’s lips. 

After this Swivel brightened up a bit, and, as he 
<iid not try to talk, the hemorrhage did not return. 
But he was very weak. 

Milly and Brandon ate a little solid food too, but 
their companion was unable to do that. 

Now that it was light enough for them to see over 
the expanse of waters, they found as they had feared, 
that the whaleback had left them behind during the 
night. 

Not a sign of her presence nor of the presence of 
any vessel which might come to their assistance, ap- 
peared. 

The condition of the Success worried them a great 
deal — or worried Don and Milly at least — for she 
was gradually sinking at the stern, and the water 
was gaining more rapidly than they liked in the cabin. 
Whereas it had only been to Brandon’s knees when 
he had first gone below, it was now up to his waist. 


26 o the quest of the silver swan 


During one of these trips of his to the flooded in- 
terior of the brig, he heard Milly’s voice excitedly 
calling to him to come on deck. 

“ What is it ? ” he asked, hastily making his appear- 
ance. 

Look ! look, Brandon ! ’’ cried the girl. 

She was standing up in the stem and looking over 
the starboard side. 

Brandon hurried toward her and followed the di- 
rection of her hand with his eyes. 

Far across the tossing sea a dark object rose and 
fell upon the surface. It was not far above the level 
of the water, and therefore, though hardly three miles 
away, had until now remained unseen by the voyagers 
of the Success. 

‘‘Is it a wreck like this?” she inquired eagerly. 

“ It must be,” said Brandon, after a careful exam- 
ination. 

“ Bring poor papa’s long glass up from his state- 
room,” cried Milly. “ You can see it then more 
plainly.” 

The boy hurried to obey this suggestion and quickly 
brought the instrument from the dead captain’s cabin. 

By the aid of the glass the shipwrecked boy and 
girl could quite plainly view the second wreck, for 
wreck it was. There was no room for doubt of that. 

“ It’s the hull of a vessel like this,” Brandon de- 
clared, “ though it’s not sunken at the stern, and it 
rides the waves easier. 

“There isn’t a sign of a spar upon it — it’s swept 
-as clean as this,” he continued. “ There must have 


THE CASTAWAYS ON THE BRIG SUCCESS 261 


been many vessels treated that way in the storm. 
Derelicts will be plentiful enough.’" 

He stopped with a startled exclamation, and stared 
at his companion in perplexity. 

What is it, Brandon ? ” Milly asked, noting his 
change of manner. 

“ I was thinking ” he said slowly, that if the Silver 
Swan — my father’s old brig, you know — kept afloat 
through this last hurricane, she would likely be in just 
such shape as yonder hulk.” 

Oh, it couldn’t be possible, could it ? ” gasped the 
girl. “ That would be too wonderful a coincidence.” 

“ Not as wonderful as you might think,” Brandon 
returned decisively, gaining confidence in the idea now 
that some one opposed him. “We are in the very 
part of the ocean — or at least, I have reason to think 
we are — in which the Silver Swan was last reported. 
I tell you, Milly, it may be she ! ” 

“If you could only get to her and see,” cried the 
young girl anxiously. 

“I — I will get to her ! ” declared Brandon, and 
then he handed the glass to her and went back to sit 
by poor Swivel and think it over. 

Milly, however, remained to watch the distant wreck 
through the instrument. 

By all appearances it was much more buoyant than 
the Success. Whereas the latter staggered up the 
long swells and labored through the trough of the sea, 
the strange derelict rode the waves like a duck, and, 
propelled by some current, moved a good deal faster, 
though in the same general direction as themselves. 

Brandon, meanwhile, sitting beside the injured boy. 


262 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


who was now sleeping deeply, was turning over in 
his mind the project he had suggested. 

He knew, even better than Milly, that the Success 
was sinking deeper and deeper every hour, and that 
before evening the water might begin to wash in over 
the stern. 

The ocean was rapidly becoming smooth. Together 
they would be able to launch a small raft — a hatch 
covering, perhaps — place Swivel thereon, and by 
using oars, or perhaps a small sail, might reach the 
distant derelict quite easily. 

Whether it was the Silver Swan he had sighted, or 
not, it certainly rode the swells better and seemed to 
be far more seaworthy than the Success. 

Finally, when Milly came up from the stem, he 
broached his plan to her. 

“I don't want to force you into this, Milly,” he 
said. ‘‘ You shall have the deciding vote. Perhaps I 
am influenced by the hope that yonder vessel is the 
Silver Swan, and maybe this is a dreadfully foolish 
plan for us to try. I think, though, that it is the best 
and wisest thing we can do.” 

“What can we use for a raft?” the girl asked 
slowly. 

“ One of the hatch covers. I have found a tool 
chest below — I can get at it yet — and there are 
spars and pieces of canvas for a sail in the same place. 
I saw them only this morning.” 

“ Can we launch a raft ? ” asked the practical Milly. 

“I believe we can. It is growing calmer all the 
time, now, and the rail is so low at the stern that we 


THE CASTAWAYS ON THE BRIG SUCCESS 263 

can push a well balanced raft into the sea and load it 
afterward.” 

“ And Swivel?” 

“ I’m afraid,” said Brandon, looking down at the 
injured boy sadly, that whatever we do cannot affect 
Swivel. We can make him as comfortable on the 
raft as elsewhere.” 

“ Then let us do it,” agreed Milly energetically. 
“ I have been watching the other wreck and it seems 
to sail much better than the Success. The old brig 
may go down now at any time.” 

And so they set to work at once at the task of build- 
ing a raft. , 


CHAPTER XXXVII 


LEFT IN DOUBT 

The task they had set themselves was no child’s 
play, and this Brandon and Milly soon discovered. 
But they were working for their lives, for according 
to their reckoning, the Success would not remain above 
the surface many hours. 

The captain’s daughter showed herself not only 
capable of handling tools, but she was strong, too. 
For years she had sailed up and down the seas with 
her father — nearly all her life, in fact — for her 
mother, Brandon had discovered by questioning, had 
died when she was quite young. 

This information assured him that there could be 
no reasonable doubt of Milly Frank’s identity. But 
for the present he said nothing to the girl about her 
relatives in New York. 

Milly’s life, therefore, had made her hardy and 
strong, although her education was limited in many 
lines. 

But she had a good basis of hard, common sense to 
build upon, and with a few terms at a well conducted 
school, she would make as well informed a girl as 
one could find. 

With some trouble they managed to wrench away 
the fastenings of the forward hatch, and with a heavy 
264 


LEFT IN DOUBT 


265 


bit which Brandon found in the captain’s chest ’tween 
decks, he was able to bore a hole of sufficient size to 
receive the butt of the small spar. 

He brought two oars on deck also, and a square of 
sailcloth which was bunglingly fashioned into a sail. 

Brandon proposed to leave nothing undone which 
would make the success of their undertaking more 
sure. Something might happen to keep them from 
reaching the other wreck, so he brought up several 
cans of sea biscuit and some canned meats from the 
cabin stores, and placed them in readiness for load- 
ing the raft after it was launched- 

Then with the aid of heavy rollers and a short bar 
they got the raft under way, and once it was started 
down the inclined deck they had no trouble whatever 
in keeping it going. The only bother was to keep it 
from moving too fast. 

Brandon found it impracticable to launch the raft 
from the stern, and therefore cut away a piece of the 
rail on the starboard side wide enough to admit of 
the passage of the lumbering hatch. 

They took the precaution to fasten a cable to the 
raft, that it might not get away from them in its 
plunge overboard, and then, by an almost superhuman 
effort, rolled the platform into the sea. 

It went in with a terrific splash, the sea water wet- 
ting both the castaways a good deal, for they had to 
stand at the rail to steady the raft’s plunge into the 
ocean. 

“ Hurrah ! ” Brandon shouted. “ It floats, and we 
shall be able to get away.” 

He hastened to pull the hatch up under the brig’s 


266 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


rail; and, with Milly’s aid, stepped the short mast. 
Then he placed the boxes and provisions aboard and 
lashed them firmly, after which a bed was made for 
Swivel on the raft. 

Once more he descended into the half submerged 
galley and made some more warm drink for the in- 
jured boy, and this time Swivel was able to eat a 
little cracker with it. 

They told him what they were about to do, and he 
seemed to take more interest in the plan than he had 
in anything since the night before. 

“ Can — can you carry me, Don ? ” he asked faintly. 

“ I can if I don’t hurt you,” the other replied. 
‘‘Now don’t try to talk, Swivel; but, if I hurt you 
badly, touch me so I’ll know.” 

With this he lifted the slight form of the lad in 
his strong arms, and carried him quickly, though easily, 
across the sloping deck and stepped aboard the raft, 
which floated almost even with the brig’s rail. 

The sea had gone down very much now, and it was 
therefore a simple matter to embark upon the hatch. 

Swivel was made comfortable among the blankets, 
his two friends hoisted the rule sail, the painter was 
cast off, and the castaways moved slowly away from 
the hulk of the Success. 

By this time it was quite late in the afternoon. Still 
there were several hours of daylight left them, for in 
this latitude the sun does not set very early, even in 
the spring. 

The time which had elapsed since they had first 
sighted the second wreck had given this latter an op- 
portunity to sail by the Success, for she moved much 


LEFT IN DOUBT 


267 


faster than the water logged brig. The raft, how- 
ever, wafted along by the brisk breeze, began to over- 
haul the stranger at once. By the aid of an oar, in 
lieu of a rudder, Brandon was able, with little diffi- 
culty to keep headed toward their objective point. 

Milly, who had brought her father’s glass along, as 
well as the log book of the Success, and all papers of 
any value belonging to her father, occupied her time 
in trimming the sail, under Brandon’s directions, and 
in gazing through the glass at the strange vessel. 

Soon the outlines of the latter became quite clearly 
visible. 

“ It was a brig like papa’s,” declared the girl, scru- 
tinizing the hull which, although denuded of every 
inch of spar and rigging, still rode the long swells as 
though perfectly seaworthy. 

“ Can you see the stern, Milly ? ” Brandon asked, 
in excitement. 

“ Yes.” 

Is there a name on it? The Swan had her name 
on the stern ? ” 

“ There is something on the stern, but it’s too far 
off yet for me to be sure,” she replied. 

‘‘ The raft is behaving beautifully,” Brandon de- 
clared, and we shall be near enough presently for 
you to be sure of what you do see.” 

Milly put down the glass and knelt by Swivel a 
moment, to place his head more comfortably. Then 
she went back to the instrument again. 

Fifteen minutes passed before she uttered a word, 
while Brandon watched her face with eager interest. 


268 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Finally she passed him the glass and seized the steer- 
ing oar herself, although she said never a 'word. 

With hands that trembled slightly Brandon placed 
the instrument to his eye and ranged it upon the stern 
of the derelict. Long and earnestly did he examine 
the lettering upon it, and then closed the glass with a 
snap. 

“ The Silver Swan — thank God ! ” he said. 

Oh, I’m so glad, for your sake, Don ! ” exclaimed 
Milly, tears of happiness shining in her eyes. You’ll 
get your father’s diamonds and be rich.” 

“ Riches oii a wreck won’t do us much good,” re- 
turned Don grimly. “ I’d rather be a pauper ashore.” 

“ Ah, but somebody will come very quickly now to 
take us off,” she said confidently. 

“ Perhaps. But, did you ever think, that perhaps 
somebody has been before us ? ” 

“ How do you mean? ” 

“ Why, I mean that perhaps somebody has boarded 
the brig already and secured the diamonds.” 

“ Who ? ” asked the girl doubtfully. Who knows 
about it excepting your Mr. Wetherbee and that Le- 
royd and his friend Weeks?” 

“ Nobody that I know of.” 

“ And nobody else knew where the jewels were hid- 
den?” 

“ Probably not.” 

Then do you suppose the steamer has been here 
first?” 

“ Oh, no ; Caleb would have towed the old Swan to 
a place of safety if he had found her — especially if 



LONG AND EARNESTLY DID HE EXAMINE THE LETTERING UPON IT AND THEN CLOSED THE GLASS WITH 
The Quest of the Silver Sivan A SNAP 




f 






» • 




LEFT IN DOUBT 269 

she is as seaworthy as she appears to be from this 
distance.” 

“ Then what do you mean ? ” demanded Milly in ex- 
asperation. 

“ What about Leroyd and Weeks?” asked Brandon 
slowly. 

“ Well, what about them? ” 

Do you suppose they are drowned ? ” 

‘‘ They may be.” 

And then again they may not be. If they were 
picked up by some vessel they might have still con- 
tinued their search for the derelict ; might have found 
her by accident, in fact.” 

“ Oh, Don,” cried the girl, “ you are supposing al- 
together too much. Don’t conjure up such disheart- 
ening ideas as that. Let us hope that we are the 
first, who know about the treasure, to find the Silver 
Swan.” 

“ Well, it doesn’t seem hardly possible that I should 
get the diamonds without any more trouble,” Bran- 
don said, with a sigh. “ I’m afraid there’s something 
wrong about it.” 

“ Don’t talk that way, but be thankful that you 
haven’t had more trouble — though, I should say 
you’d had almost enough,” returned Milly, laughing 
a little. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII 


HOW THE ENEMY APPEARED 

Slowy the rude craft drew near the hull of the 
Silver Swan. The brig floated as well as though she 
had never struck upon Reef Eight, nor been buffeted 
by the gales of this southern sea for well nigh three 
months. 

The recent storm had done little damage to her 
deck either, although the rails were smashed in one 
or two places. Her wheel had been lashed firmly,, 
and strangely enough it still remained so, and now, 
in this quiet sea, the brig held as even a keel as though 
she was well manned. 

Within two hours of the time the castaways had 
been assured that the wreck they were nearing was 
the Silver Swan, the raft came up under her lee rail, 
and Brandon caught the bight of a cable over a pin 
on the quarter. Then he leaped aboard himself and 
made the rope secure. 

The rail of the Silver Swan was so much higher 
above the surface of the sea than that of the sinking 
Success had been that Brandon and Milly had to fash- 
ion a sling ” of the sail, in which to get Swivel 
aboard. The injured youth bore the pain this must 
have caused him uncomplainingly and was soon made 
comfortable on the deck of this, their new refuge. 

270 


HOW THE ENEMY APPEARED 


271 


They did not let the raft float away, although they 
hoped that they should not need it again, and Bran- 
don even took the precaution of fastening it with a 
second cable before they started to explore the brig. 

The Silver Swan had been almost uninjured by her 
long journey with no pilot but the fickle winds and 
currents of the ocean. The masts had, of course, all 
gone in the first gale, and her crew had cut away every 
bit of the wreckage before leaving her to her fate on 
the reef. 

The hatches had been battened down and the doors 
of the forecastle and cabin likewise closed, so that the 
occasional seas which had washed over her had done 
little toward injuring the interior. 

Leaving Milly to look out for Swivel, Brandon 
forced open the cabin door (it had swelled badly dur- 
ing the long siege of stormy weather which the brig 
had withstood) and went below. Naturally every- 
thing was in confusion — tables, chairs, and what not 
overturned; but nothing about the cabin seemed in- 
jured. 

The cook’s quarters showed a bad state of affairs, 
however, for there wasn’t a whole dish (except the tin 
ones) in the place, and the stove lay on its back kick- 
ing its four feet in the air as though in its last ex- 
piring agonies. 

Brandon righted this useful utensil first, and mended 
the broken pipe as best he could. Then, when he had 
a fire started in the thing, he went on to examine the 
smaller cabins or staterooms. 

He knew his father’s well enough and looked in. 
But he could not bear to enter that just now, and so 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


fixed upon one, which should have belonged to the sec- 
ond mate, for the use of poor Swivel. 

He went back to Milly and the injured boy then, 
and removed the latter to the brig’s cabin. 

Milly, who was a capable girl in more ways than 
one, went to work at once to get up a substantial meal 
from the stores which they had brought from the Suc- 
cess, with the addition of some eatables belonging to 
the provisions of the Swan. 

It was rapidly growing dark, and to prevent the 
liability of a collision, Brandon hunted out some of the 
ship’s lanterns and hung two in the bows, and another 
at the masthead, devoutly hoping that the lights, placed 
in these peculiar positions, would attract the atten- 
tion of some passing vessel. 

Then the lamp in the cabin was filled and lighted, 
and for the first time in forty-eight hours or more, 
they sat down to a comfortable meal. 

At least, Milly and Brandon sat down ; Swivel re- 
mained in his berth, with the door of the stateroom 
open, and watched them with a wan smile on his pale 
face. 

Now, Brandon, why don’t you see if the diamonds 
are here? ” asked the young girl, as they finished their 
supper. I thought you would be eager to look as 
soon as you got aboard.” 

Don glanced across the table at her curiously. 

“ Do you know,” he said hesitatingly. “ I’m half 
afraid to. It would be a terrible disappointment if 
they should not be there — and perhaps they are not.” 

“ Come, come ! don’t be foolish,” said practical Milly. 


HOW THE ENEMY APPEARED 


273 


“ Tal<e a look in the secret closet — wherever it is — 
or I shall be tempted to do it myself.’" 

Brandon, thus urged, rose and approached the com- 
panionway. 

Third panel, on port side,” he repeated. “ That 
was Caleb’s direction, if I remember rightly. Now 
let’s see.” 

He pressed on the designated panel, first one way 
and then another. It seemed a trifle loose, but other- 
wise refused to move. 

“ Maybe I’ve made a mistake,” he muttered, when 
suddenly, on his pressing downward on the edge of the 
wood, a section of the panel dropped out leaving a 
shallow, metal lined cavity displayed to view. 

“ Bring the lamp, Milly,” he cried eagerly. 

The girl obeyed and held the light so that it might 
illuminate the interior of the secret closet. There 
was something in the compartment! 

Brandon hastily thrust in his hand and drew forth 
a flat, heavy package, sealed in oiled silk and bound 
with a cord. Hurrying to the cabin table with his 
prize he tore off the cord, broke the seals, and un- 
wound the outer wrappings. 

Milly, quite as excited as himself, held the lamp 
closer, watching his movements anxiously. 

Beneath the outer covering was a flat pouch of 
chamois skin, the flap sealed at one end. This seal 
the youth broke without hesitation, and in another in- 
stant had poured a glittering shower of gems upon the 
polished surface of the cabin table. 

“ Diamonds ! diamonds ! thousands of dollars’ 
^worth ! ” cried Milly delightedly, running her fingers 


274 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


through the little heap of glittering stones and letting 
them fall in a flashing shower from her hands. 

The gems were uncut — at least by the hand of man 
— but even in their crude state they sparkled wonder- 
fully. 

For several moments they feasted their eyes on the 
brilliant spectacle, and then Milly filled both hands 
with the precious gems and ran to show Swivel. 

“ "Whew ! ” whispered that youth, his eyes growing 
round with wonder. “ Wot a lot of shiners ! ” 

“ Don’t let him talk, Milly,” commanded Brandon, 
beginning to see that it would never do for them to 
excite the sick boy by the sight of the gems. “ When 
he is better he can see them all.” 

The young girl came back with the jewels, smiling 
happily at her friend. She seemed quite as joyful be- 
cause of his good fortune as though the gems were 
her own. 

Brandon took the precautions to close the door be- 
tween the cabin and Swivel’s stateroom soon after 
this, that the boy might go to sleep, and then he and 
Milly sat down at the table and counted the diamonds. 

There were no very large gems among the lot, but 
they were of fair size and of the purest white. 

It was late that night before the two castaways re- 
tired. Brandon prepared what had once been Caleb 
Wetherbee’s quarters for Milly, but he himself slept in 
the cabin, rolled up in a blanket on the floor, that he 
might be near Swivel. 

They were so exhausted from their privations of 
the past day and a half that they slept until far into 
the next forenoon. Swivel was actually better, and 


HOW THE ENEMY APPEARED 


275 


had no more sinking spells, so that Milly and Brandon 
began to hope for his recovery. 

Just after they rose Brandon saw a sailing vessel 
far down on the horizon; but it passed by without 
noticing the brig. And once during the day the smoke 
of a steam vessel blotted the lines where the sky and 
sea met, far to the eastward. 

These momentary glimpses of other craft gave them 
some hope, for it showed them that they were not en- 
tirely out of the track of shipping. 

That night Brandon hung the lanterns out again, 
and according to arrangement with Milly, remained 
on deck to watch. She was to watch days, and he at 
night, and he fulfilled his lonely vigil faithfully. 

But not a vessel appeared to gladden his lonely eyes. 

Milly rose early on that third day and prepared 
breakfast, after eating which Brandon went to bed. 
The sky remained beautifully clear, and they had noth- 
ing to fear from the elements, for the glass forecasted 
a continued spell of fine weather. 

Milly took up her position with the long spy glass 
on the deck, and swept the horizon for some sign of 
rescue. Occasionally she went down to look in on 
Swivel, and about noon to prepare the dinner. 

When the meal was nearly ready the young girl ran 
up the companionway stairs again for a final look be- 
fore she summoned Brandon from his stateroom. As 
she put the glass to her eye and gazed toward the 
west a cry of surprise and joy burst from her lips. 

Approaching the derelict brig, with a great expanse 
of canvas spread to the fresh breeze, was a small 


276 THE QUEST. OF THE SILVER SWAN 


schooner, the water dashing white and frothy from her 
bows ! 

“ Saved ! saved ! ” gasped the girl. Oh, thank 
God!^^ 

While she had been below the vessel had come in 
sight, and was now less than half a mile from the 
wreck. 

What seemed strange, however, was that the 
schooner was laying a course directly for the brig as 
though it was her intention to board her, 

“ Brandon ! Brandon ! ” she cried, running back to 
the cabin and rapping on the door. 

“ Aye, aye ! ” he shouted, and was out of his berth 
in a moment. 

‘‘ What is it ? ” he asked, appearing in the cabin. 

“ There is a schooner coming right for us ! cried 
Milly, laughing and crying for joy. “ I’ve just dis- 
covered it. It’s about here.” 

She was about to dart out upon deck again, but 
Brandon grasped her arm. 

“ Wait, Milly,” he said cautiously. ‘‘ Have they 
seen you yet ? ” 

“ No ; but I want them to.” 

Not yet. We don’t know what they may be. Let 
me look at them,” said the boy rapidly. 

He' seized the glass, and mounting to the top of the 
stairs, peered out from the shelter of the companion- 
way at the strange schooner. 

She lay to about a quarter of a mile away from the 
derelict, and a boat was already half way between the 
vessel and the wreck. Brandon examined the men in 
it intently. 


HOW THE ENEMY APPEARED 


277 


Only a moment did he scrutinize them, and then he 
dropped the glass with a cry of alarm. He had 
recognized Jim Leroyd and the fellow Weeks among 
the crew of the small boat ! 


CHAPTER XXXIX 


SHOWING HOW MR. WEEKS MADE HIS LAST MOVE 

“What is it, Brandon?” gasped ’Milly, seeing the 
look upon her companion’s face. 

“ Look ! look ! ” whispered the youth, thrusting the 
glass into her hands. 

Milly gazed in terrified silence at the approaching 
hoat. 

She, as well as Don, at once recognized the villainous 
Leroyd and his friend. Sneaky Al, and her heart sank 
with fear. 

“What shall we do?” she inquired at last, turning 
to Brandon. 

The latter turned back into the cabin without a 
Avord, opened the secret closet and grasping the pack- 
.age of diamonds thrust it into the breast of his shirt. 

“ I’ll hide in the hold,” he said, appearing to grasp 
the situation at once. “ I do not believe they’ll find 
me. Tell Swivel, and he’ll know what to tell and 
what not to tell, if they try to pump him. 

“ They needn’t know that I’m here at all, or that 
you know anything about me. They’ll not dare to 
hurt you, Milly. But I shall be on hand in case they 
try it.” 

“ But what can you do against so many ? ” she re- 
turned, with a hysteric laugh. 

278 


HIS LAST MOVE 


279 


“Something — you’ll see. They shan’t hurt you 
while I’m alive,” he declared earnestly. 

“ But suppose they take us off with them — Swivel 
and I?” 

“ Go, of course,”, returned Brandon promptly. 
“ Leave me to shift for myself. When you get ashore 
communicate with Adoniram Pepper & Co. of New 
York, and tell them how I’m fixed. Good by, Milly ! ” 

He wrung her hand warmly and disappeared in the 
direction of the booby hatch ’tween decks. At the 
same moment there were voices outside and the noise 
of the schooner’s small boat scraping against the 
side of the brig. 

Milly, with hands clasped tightly across her breast, 
as though in the endeavor to still the heavy beating 
of her heart, remained standing beside the cabin ta- 
ble as the men boarded the brig and entered the cabin. 

The first to come below was the ill featured Leroyd 
himself, and close behind him was Alfred Weeks and 
two other men from the crew of the schooner. 

“ Dash my top lights ! ” cried the sailor, as he caught 
sight of the young girl standing there so silently. 

He retreated precipitately upon his friend Weeks, 
who was almost as greatly astonished as himself. 

“ How under the sun came you here. Miss Frank? ” 
demanded Sneaky Al, stepping forward. 

But Leroyd grabbed his arm and strove to drag him 
back. 

“ Stop, man ! ’tis not a human ! ” he gasped, his us- 
ually red face fairly pallid. “ It’s the spirit of the 
poor girl. I knowed how ’twould be we’en we left 
her aboard the Success.” 


28 o 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Weeks shook off his grasp in contempt. 

“ Tm only too willing to meet such a charming ghost 
as this,” he said, with a smirk, smiling at the young 
girl. Don’t be a fool, Jim. It is Miss Frank her- 
self, though how she came here is the greatest of all 
mysteries.” 

“ ’Tis the work o’ Davy Jones hisself,” muttered the 
sailor. 

The other two men, both low browed, sullen appear- 
ing fellows looked on without comment. 

“How did you get here?” repeated Weeks. 

“We came from the Success just before she was 
about to sink,” Milly declared. “ Did you come to 
save us ? ” 

“ Us? ” cried Weeks, in utter amazement. “ For 
goodness’ sake, who’s with you ? ” 

“ After poor papa was killed,” there was a little 
choke in Milly’s voice here, “a vessel overhauled the 
Success and a boy tried to save me. He brought a 
rope to the wreck, but it parted before we could haul 
in a heavier cable, and the gale swept the other vessel 
away during the night.” 

“Brave chap!” muttered Weeks. “Where is he 
now ? ” 

“ There,” she said, pointing to the open door of the 
stateroom in which Swivel was lying. “ He is hurt.” 

“ But that doesn’t explain how ye got here, miss,” 
said the sailor suspiciously. 

“ I hadn’t got to that, Mr. Leroyd. Had you been 
men, you would not have left me to drown as you did, 
and then there would have been no necessity for my 
remaining for three days on these two vessels.” 


HIS LAST MOVE 


281 


** You misjudge us, I assure you,” Weeks hastened 
to say, as Leroyd shrank back at the girl’s scornful 
words. “ Both Leroyd and I were in one boat and 
the second mate was in the other boat. He declared 
you to be safe, and I thought, and so did Mr. Leroyd, 
that you were with him. 

“ It was not until we were picked up by the schooner 
Natchez, of Bermuda, and carried to those islands, 
that we discovered your deplorable loss.” 

But Milly did not believe this plausible story. She 
had too vivid a remembrance of Leroyd and the cow- 
ardly Weeks during the gale, to be impressed by this 
tale. 

“ This brig passed the Success on the second day 
after you left me, and we made a raft and came to it, 
because it was so much more seaworthy than papa’s 
vessel,” said Milly coldly. 

'‘You say this boy is hurt, eh?” said Weeks, step- 
ping around to the stateroom door and peering in at 
Swivel, who was sleeping heavily despite the sound 
of voices. “ Gee ! he does look bad, doesn’t he ? ” 

“ Well, wot in thunder shall we do ? ” growled Le- 
royd at length. “ We’ve got no time to spend in fool- 
ing, Al. No knowing what that — that other craft 
is.” 

" Miss Milly,” Weeks assured her, without paying 
any attention to the words of his companion, “ we 
shall have the pleasure of taking you and your brave 
young friend ashore with us — after we settle a little 
business here.” 

" Well, I’m glad ter hear you gittin’ down ter busi- 
ness,” declared Leroyd, with satisfaction. “ Come, 


282 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 

now, skin out of here, you fellers,” he added, address- 
ing the two men at the companionway. “ We’ll come 
up or call for you when we want ye.” 

The men departed and the sailor turned again to his 
partner. 

“ Hurry ! ” he exclaimed eagerly. Where’s the 
place you said they were hid? It’s somewhere in the 
cabin here, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then send the gal on deck, too, and let’s rum- 
mage.” 

“ We won’t be rude enough to do that,” said Weeks, 
with another smirk at Milly. '‘We will just request 
the young lady not to speak of what she sees us do.” 

“ I don’t care. Anything, so long’s we get ’em and 
get out o’ here. Suppose — ” 

“ Never mind supposing any longer. Let me see, 
now,” and Weeks walked slowly to the upper end of 
the cabin and counted off three panels from the com- 
panionway on the port side. 

Quickly his long finger touched the surface of the 
panel, pressing here and there and rattling the loose 
board, and finally the panel dropped down, disclosing 
the secret cupboard — empty ! 

Leroyd darted forward. 

“ What is it? Is it there?” he cried. 

“ The infernal luck ! it’s empty ! ” shouted Weeks, 
and with a volley of maledictions he staggered back 
and dropped into the nearest chair. 

Leroyd was fairly purple. 

“ Have you tricked me ! ” he yelled, seizing his part- 
ner by the shoulders and shaking him. 


HIS LAST MOVE 


283 


No, you fool! why should I trick you? That is 
where Caleb Wetherbee said the diamonds were hid.” 

“ Sh ! ” growled the sailor. ‘‘ D’ye want that gal ter 
know everything? She knows too much now.” 

“ She doesn’t know anything about this ; why should 
she ? ” 

'' Then, what’s become of them ? ” 

“ I can tell you that,” returned Weeks. ‘‘ Cale 
Wetherbee’s been here.” 

“ And left the Silver Swan a derelict — almost as 
good as new — an’ him with a steamer ? ” roared Le- 
royd. ‘‘ Man, you’re dreaming ! ” 

Then — what — has happened ! ” asked Alfred 
Weeks slowly. 

“ The gal — the gal here,” declared Leroyd, turn- 
ing fiercely upon Milly. “ She’s found ’em, I tell ye ! 

He advanced upon the shrinking girl so threaten- 
ingly, that Milly screamed, and rushed to the compan- 
ionway. Leroyd pursued her, and Weeks followed 
the angry sailor. 

Up to the deck darted the girl, and almost into the 
arms of one of the men whom Leroyd had driven out 
of the brig’s cabin. The fellow looked excited and he 
shouted to the angry sailor as soon as he saw him : 

“ De steamer come — up queek. Mr. Leroyd ! Dey 
put ofif-a boat already.” 

Milly, who had dodged past the speaker, turned her 
eyes to the east — the opposite direction from which 
the schooner had appeared — and beheld a steamship, 
her two funnels vomiting thick smoke, just rounded to, 
less than two cable lengths away. 

It was the whaleback steamer, Number Three I 


284 the quest of THE SILVER SWAN 


Already a boat had put off from the whaleback and 
it was now being swiftly propelled toward the Silver 
Swan. 

The two men whom Leroyd and Weeks had brought 
with them from the schooner, had been smoking in the 
lee of the deck-house and had not discovered the 
steamer’s approach until she was almost upon the dere- 
lict. 

“ Curses on it ! ” Weeks exclaimed as he took in 
the situation and recognized the steamer, whose smoke 
they had beheld in the distance, before boarding the 
brig. 

But Leroyd kept on after the fleeing Milly. He be- 
lieved that she knew something about the missing 
gems, or had them in her possession, and he was de- 
termined to get them. 

Milly ran to the bows of the brig, with Leroyd close 
behind her. 

“ Let that gal alone ! ” roared a voice from the ap- 
proaching boat. “Give way, boys! I won’t leave a 
whole bone in that scoundrel’s body, once I get my 
paws on him.” 

In an instant the small boat was under the brig’s 
rail, and Caleb Wetherbee himself was upon her deck 
with an agility quite surprising. Mr. Coffin and two 
of the boat’s crew were right behind him. 

A moment later the panting girl, having eluded the 
clumsier sailor, was behind the shelter of Caleb’s tow- 
ering form and those of his companions. 

Weeks stopped Leroyd in his mad rush for the 
girl, and whispered a few swift sentences in his ear. 
Then he stepped forward. 


HIS LAST MOVE 


“ By what right do you board this brig, Mr. Weth- 
erbee?” he asked. ‘‘This is a derelict. We have 
seized her and propose to tow her to port for salvage. 
I command you to leave her.” 

“ How long since you boarded her for that pur- 
pose ? ” Mr. Coffin demanded, for Caleb was fairly 
purple with rage and surprise. 

“ Since half an hour ago,” replied Weeks calmly. 

“If that is the case, I think I have a prior claim,” 
suddenly interrupted a voice. “ I came aboard two 
days ago and I claim the Silver Swan as mine by right 
of discovery ! ” 

The astounded company turned toward the cabin en- 
trance and beheld Brandon Tarr just appearing from 
below. 


CHAPTER XL 


IN WHICH THE ENEMY IS DEFEATED AND THE QUEST OF 
THE SILVER SWAN IS ENDED 

Brandon ! ” shouted Caleb ; it’s the boy him- 
self!” 

But Leroyd uttered a howl of rage and sprang to- 
ward the youth, his face aflame and his huge fist raised 
to strike. Calebs however, despite his wooden leg, was 
too quick for him. 

He flew to Don’s rescue, and ere Leroyd could reach 
his intended victim, the old mariner felled the villain 
to the deck with one swing of his powerful arm. 

Weeks, who had also dashed forward to aid in 
Brandon’s overthrow, was seized by the doughty cap- 
tain of the whaleback and tossed completely over the 
brig’s rail. 

“ Git out o’ here, the hull kit an’ bilin’ of ye I ” Ca- 
leb roared, starting for the two men belonging to the 
schooner. 

They obeyed with surprising alacrity, and the old 
man picked up the dazed Leroyd and tossed him into 
the boat after them. Weeks, dripping and sputtering, 
was hauled aboard by his companions, and the small 
boat was rowed back to the schooner, while Bran- 
don, unable to restrain his emotion, threw up his hat 
and shouted, “ Hurrah ! ” with all his might. 

286 


THE QUEST IS ENDED 


287 


It occupied the three castaways — Milly, Brandon, 
and Swivel — and Mr. Coffin and Caleb, fully two 
hours to straighten out matters satisfactorily. They 
had so much to tell and so much to explain for one 
another’s benefit, that the whaleback had run in and 
the crew passed a hawser from her stern to the bow 
of the brig, under Mr. Bolin’s directions, ere the con- 
ference was ended. 

Words cannot well express the astonishment that 
those on the whaleback felt at finding the castaways 
aboard the Silver Swan — or at finding the brig it- 
self. For the past twelve hours they had all believed 
that the derelict was a victim of Uncle Sam’s feverish 
impatience to destroy all obstructions to commerce in 
his ocean. 

Upon figuring the whole matter up, it was pretty 
evident that it was the Success which the naval en- 
sign had exploded, for she had been sunk at the stern 
sufficiently to cover her name, and had been so bat- 
tered by the waves that the lettering on the bow was 
also probably unreadable. 

After believing, as they did, that the Swan was 
sunk and all her treasures with her, the whaleback had 
sailed about in circles, seeking the wreck of the Suc- 
cess, on which they believed Brandon and his two com- 
panions to be. 

It was only by providential fortune that the brig 
had finally been sighted, and the whaleback had 
steamed up just in time to wrest the Silver Swan from 
Messrs. Leroy d and Weeks. 

Swivel was taken aboard the steamer and carefully 
examined by Lawrence Coffin, who was no mean sur- 


288 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


geon, and he pronounced the youth as seriously, if 
not dangerousl}', injured. He had burst a blood ves- 
sel and had sustained other internal injuries, and 
would probably be unfit for work of any kind for a 
long time. 

“ Best place for him is the Marine Hospital,” de- 
clared Mr. Coffin to Brandon and Caleb that night in 
the steamer’s cabin. 

‘‘ Hospital nothin’ ! ” exclaimed Caleb, with convic- 
tion. “ The hospital is all right for them as hain’t 
go no homes — like as I hadn’t, nor no friends — a 
good deal as I was — nor nothing’ ; but that boy ain’t 
goin’ to lack a shelter as long as Fm alive.” 

'‘Best not take him on a sea voyage just yet, Mr. 
Wetherbee,” responded Mr. Coffin seriously. 

“ I don’t intend to. He’s goin’ ter live with me, 
though.” 

“ But won’t you sail the Silver Swan ? ” asked the 
first officer. “ She’s as good as new and she’s yours, 
too, I understand.” 

“ No, sir. I’m not. When the Silver Swan is in 
shape again, I shall put Mr. Bolin in command of her! 
I’ve already spoken to him about it.” 

“ Whew ! ” whistled Mr. Coffin. “ And the whale- 
back?” 

“You’ll command her; that was the agreement I 
made with Adoniram before we left New York.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Wetherbee,” exclaimed the first 
officer gratefully. “ But may I ask what you propose 
to do ? ” 

“ I shall retire from the sea — that is, from com- 
mandin’ a ship, any way.” 


THE QUEST IS ENDED 


289 


'' So you’re goin’ to keep bachelor’s hall, and going 
to take this Swivel to it ? ” and Mr. Coffin shook his 
head gravely. “ He really needs a woman’s nursing.” 

Caleb grew very red in the face, and blew his nose 
furiously. 

“ He — he’ll get it, Mr. Coffin,” he said hesitatingly. 

Both Brandon and the first officer looked at the old 
tar in blank amazement. 

“ I said he’d get it,” repeated Caleb solemnly, though 
with a rather shamefaced look. He’ll get it, sir, 
an’ from the trimmest little woman ye ever see.” 

It’s Miss Frances ! ” burst forth Brandon at 
length. 

“It is her, my lad. An’ hain’t I right erbout her 
bein’ a mighty trim one ? ” 

“ She is, indeed ! She’s splendid ! ” cried Brandon 
enthusiastically, seizing his friend’s mighty palm. 

Mr. Coffin also offered his congratulations, but went 
away afterward with rather a dazed look on his face. 

He was pretty well acquainted with the old sea- 
man, and he wondered, as did Brandon, how under 
the sun Caleb had ever plucked up the courage to ask 
Adoniram Pepper’s sister for her hand. 

“Yes, lad,” said the old man gravely; “I’ve been 
floating about from sea to sea and from land to land 
for the better part of fifty years, an’ now I’m goin’ ter 
lay back an’ take it easy for the rest of my days.” 

And as Brandon wrung his hand again he felt that 
the old seaman fully deserved it all. 

Hs sK * 5k * 

In good time the whaleback, with her tow, the dere- 
lict brig, arrived in New York, where the Silver 


290 


THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN 


Swan was at once sent to the shipyard for repairs, and 
is now doing her owner good service as a merchant- 
man. 

Adoniram Pepper & Co.’s scheme of recovering 
derelicts in general and towing them in for their sal- 
vage, has never amounted to anything yet, for directly 
following the trip of Number Three (rechristened the 
Milly Frank, by the way), the owner received a good 
offer for putting the whaleback in the European trade, 
and she is still carrying grain to England, with Mr. 
Coffin as commander. 

Milly Frank’s joy at finding her relatives, of whose 
existence her father had never told her, ' was only 
equaled by the joy of Adoniram and Frances Pepper 
themselves in recovering their “ little sister ” again — 
for as such Milly appears to them. 

Miss Frances is of course Miss Frances no longer; 
but with her husband, she still occupies her brother’s 
house in New York, and Milly dwells with them. 

Brandon, who is at present in the naval school, re- 
sides there also during vacation, and calls the com- 
pany of assorted humanity there gathered “ the happy 
family.” 

Swivel is in the West — that land of bracing and 
salubrious climate — for after he recovered from the 
accident he sustained on the wreck, the doctors told 
him that he could never live and be strong in the East 
again. So, with the assistance of Caleb, Adoniram, 
and Brandon, who quarreled not a little as to who 
should do the most for him, he was sent West, and a 
glorious start in business life was given him in that 
rapidly growing country. 


THE QUEST IS ENDED 


291 


Brandon himself, though made independently rich 
by the sale of the diamonds found by Anson Tarr, 
loves the sea too well to give it up altogether, and, as 
I said, is in the naval academy at Annapolis. When 
he is through school and gets his appointment, he 
and Milly may — but I won’t anticipate. 

As for the disappointed Uncle Arad, he never 
pressed the matter of Brandon’s arrest after the fail- 
ure of the plot (hatched up by himself and Messrs. 
Leroy d and Weeks) to convert his nephew’s property 
to his own use. He still remains on the farm at Chop- 
mist, and by report is as crabbed and stingy as ever; 
but Brandon has had no desire to return to the farm 
since his Quest of the Silver Swan was ended. 


THE END 


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